Summer Rain
by Trinity-Neo1818
Summary: AU: When Pan faces a family disaster at the begining of her summer holiday, the 16 year old is sent far away to live with the Brief's family until the turmoil is over. Things seem grim, until she meets Trunks...that is.....
1. Last day of school

A/N: I have decided to write a Pan and Trunks story as the third part of my trilogy. I know there are a lot of them out there and personally, this isn't my favorite couple, but I really like this story and I want to get it out there as fast as possible. But this isn't an ordinary P/T story, it has a twist!

It is set four years after 'Marron the teenage drama queen' and written in Pan's POV

(o)

"Twenty minutes until the end of this torture." Zara whispered and tapped the surface of her new, glow in the dark, water proof and state-of-the-art digital watch that had made me so jealous of her for the past six hours.

I nodded and forced a smile before turning to stare gloomily out of the classroom window at the hot and humid summer day. Clouds were gathering in the sky beyond Orange Star High but even so, it was the hottest day of summer so far. My best friend Zara and I had taken a seat beside the window in the hopes of catching a breeze but we were unlucky.

It was a Geography class, taught by Miss Bones, a very....err....bony teacher who vaguely resembled a withered prune and had a voice like a dying bee. We were meant to be discussing the effects of slave labor in Mongolia which wasn't a topic I found particularly interesting and neither did the rest of my grade ten class who were spending their time passing notes and watching the clock that sat above the blackboard while Miss Bones continued her lecture, blissfully unaware that no one was paying any attention.

I groaned and adjusted myself in my seat. My thighs, bare beneath my kaki short-shorts, had stuck to the wooden seat with sweat and made an...odd sound when I lifted my legs. Luckily, only Zara had heard and clasped a hand to her mouth to stop herself from laughing.

I wasn't exactly popular at Orange Star High and the few friends I had were not really close to me. Except for Zara who had been my best friend since day one of high school. We got on well because she wasn't popular either, mainly because her appearance: her hair was as black as mine, but her skin was paler than normal and she only ever wore black, because she said she was in mourning for our generation. Her real name was Madeline Rose White but that name didn't suit her at all and she went by Zara Black while at school. Anyone who called her otherwise would have to answer to me.

I checked the clock again. Five minutes.....that was all that stood between me and the upcoming three months of summer holidays which I would spend happily at home with my family (I lived too far away to do anything with Zara in the holidays, and she didn't know that I was a Sayian since I was under strict orders from my parents not to tell ANYONE). What could be better?

The bell finally rang while I was still in a dreamy state of thinking about things to do this holiday season. At once, the entire class jumped to their feet, grabbed their stuff and ran out of the classroom shouting like idiots about summer holidays and beach parties. Zara and I stood up quietly, and calmly gathered our things.

"Great, I was waiting for the stampede." I whispered out of the corner of my mouth and Zara cracked up laughing.

"Good to see some people are sensible." Miss Bones sighed exhaustedly. "Have a good holiday girls, great time for some extra study to prepare for grade eleven. It's a busy year, you know. Have to start thinking about the HSC and what your going to do with the rest of your lives."

"That's easy." I told Zara as we made our way down the hall past large groups of hyperactive teenagers. "I'm going to be a fighter, like my uncle and grandfather. I'm going to enter tournaments to win money and spend the rest of my life training."

"If your still going to live with your parents, can I move in with you, Pan?" Zara asked almost pleadingly. "I don't think I can stand mine much longer. They want me to settle down and find a decent husband so I can become a slave to the system and take up a life of housework."

"Get married? Gross!" I pulled a face. "I pity you, Zara. I'm never going to get married, that's for sure."

"Got your whole life planned out, have you?"

"Yup." I replied with a grin, which fell from my face as a dark shadow crept up behind me and I turned to meet eyes with Mason Carter, an unpopular guy who has had the biggest and most well known crush on me since....forever.

"Hey hot stuff, what you up to these holidays?" He asked me in a failed attempt to sound cool and collected, his dusty brown eyes blinking at me from behind an encasement of pale freckled skin.

"Keeping away from you, freak." I scowled, turned away from him and marched down the hall with Zara laughing hysterically by my side.

"Aw, come on Pan. Give me a break! What do I have to do to get you to notice me?" Mason said as he strode up behind me, running his fingers through his incredibly messy and oily red hair.

"Shut up, for starters." I muttered upon reaching my locker.

"I can buy you flowers. But you wouldn't like that. Your too much of a tomboy."

He was talking about flowers!? This couldn't go on any longer. It was time to take a stand.

"I SAID SHUT UP MASON!" I shouted, rounding on him and smacking him in the face. He flew across the air and landed in the garbage bin opposite. The others who were still in the locker room, mainly couples, roared with laughter.

It wasn't the first time I had punched that ugly, squished up face. Mason had been in worse situations before. But that's what you get for having a crush on me. It was simply unheard of that I would ever find a boyfriend. People like me never go out.

"Come on, Pan." Zara said, suppressing a desire to burst out laughing. "Let's get out of here before your dad finds out."

"Doesn't matter, I have to go home with my dad anyway. Just as well I had a chance to beat Mason up before summer holidays. It seems he gives me temporary stress relief."

Truth was, beating up Mason made a point to all the other kids in my grade. I was Pan Son, a fighter and a rebel and it didn't matter how many detentions I received as long as I didn't have any stupid guys following me around all the time.

I walked with Zara to the school entrance and said goodbye to her for the holidays then made my way to the math classrooms to meet my father.

"Hey Pan," Gohan said, not bothering to look up when I came inside. "I'm going to stay back here a while. Have a meeting with the other teachers. You can wait if you want or go home without me."

"You think I'd want to stay around here any longer than I have to?" I said bitterly, an urge to kick the walls of the school building so they crumbled into nothing overpowering me.

"Didn't expect you'd want to." Said Gohan with a laugh as he set his reading glasses down on the desk and faced me properly. "Just make sure that-"

"I fly above the clouds so I can't be seen, I know." I cut in.

"It's very important that you do because if people found out I was half alien-"

"You'd be sacked and I would have to leave the school, I KNOW!" I shouted the last bit, incredibly frustrated and dying to go home.

"Alright, alright. I'll see you at home."

"Great thanks bye." I said without pausing as I ran out of the school in almost the same fashion as everyone else in the grade. Like a crazy stampede of wild animals.

I made my way to the roof of the school building and took off into the clouds, feeling much better than I had felt in a long time. Finally, after counting down the days until the end of the year, school was over and I was free for the next three months! The only bad thought was that once the holidays were up, I'd have to come back and face grade eleven.

Finally I landed in the mountain wilderness in front of two almost identical houses. One for my parents and I and the other for my grandparents. Because of the extreme heat, it was no surprise to find them all sitting outside including my Uncle Goten, his pretty, blonde and pregnant wife, Aunt Marron and their three year old son Elijah.

Elijah and I had always been close. I was thirteen when he was born but the age gap made no difference to our friendship. I saw him almost everyday because while Aunt Marron worked as a fashion designer, Uncle Goten and Elijah came here (seeing as an apartment in Capsule City isn't a great place to train).

"Pan, hey!" Goten grinned foolishly and everyone watched as I landed in front of them. Elijah immediately raced across the grass and rapped his arms around my legs because he could only reach that high, hugging me tightly.

"Where's your father?" Videl, my mother, asked me as she brushed back a strand of her raven black hair that had managed to escape her long plat.

"Staying back late. Not me though! I couldn't stand to stay in that place a second longer than I had to. Anything to eat?" I asked hopefully.

"I'll get you something, darling." My grandmother, Chi-Chi, replied and disappeared into her house.

Elijah let go of my legs and tilted his head towards the sky to meet my eyes. If you didn't know better, you would have said we were brother and sister. We both had taken after our grandfather Goku and had his jet, coal black eyes and sleek ebony hair. Of course, mine was longer and scrapped my shoulders with a fringe that touched my thick black eyebrows. Elijah's hair was cut in a bowl shape with an even fringe going right around his head. We were also both the only quarter Sayians in the entire universe.

"School fun, Pan? I want to go to school!" He pouted and I laughed, patting the top of his head. He could be so naïve, just like his father.

"Trust me, you don't want to go to school. It isn't as fun as you might think. It's more of a prison actually."

"Oh. I won't go then." He shrugged, searched for something to say and then turned to face me again, his eyes wide and gleaming with joy. "Let's play fighting, Pan!"

"You don't play fighting, Elijah. Fighting isn't a game." I frowned. No matter what I said, he always said 'play fighting' instead of spar. It was beginning to really bug me.

"Play fighting with me, Pan! I really good now. Daddy and grandpa are teaching me!" He squeaked, jumping around happily.

"Ok, fine." I sighed exhaustedly with a smile playing on my face. Elijah started shouting for joy and jumping around on the table.

"Be careful with him. He's a bit tired, despite this little display of joy." Marron warned, her green eyes glaring out at me, almost hidden behind wisps of her lavish blonde hair.

"I not tired, Mummy. I fine." Elijah stated loudly and jumped of the table, giving his father a feeble punch as if to prove his point.

"You say _I am_, Elijah, not just plain _I_." Chi-Chi said fiercely as she reemerged from her house with food. "You must teach him correct grammar, Goten or he'll never learn."

Elijah grabbed my hand in his tiny one and smiled into my eyes. "Play fighting now, Pan?"

"Sure."

We made our way into the woods slightly for a little more privacy and I watched with amusement while Elijah powered up to his full strength. I had to admit, I was a little impressed. He was pretty strong for his age, though not as strong as I had been when I was three. Elijah had only just learnt how to fly when I could already fly around the world as a toddler.

"Ready now, Elijah?" I asked as I dropped into fighting stance.

Elijah didn't answer me. He was surrounded in a red glow as he always was when he powered up to his full strength but his eyes were heavy as if it was an effort to keep them open. The scream that accompanied his power up was not a scream of gathering power....but almost a scream of complete pain.

"Elijah, are you ok? Elijah?"

Still no answer, his face was red and feverish and silver tears were sliding down his cheeks. I was certain now that he was in pain.

"Elijah!" I screamed and rushed over to him. "Stop it! You're not well."

"No." He managed to say no louder than a whisper in a voice that wasn't his own. I grabbed his shoulders and shook him wildly.

"Elijah, listen to me! You're not well!"

But it was too late. The red glow vanished and Elijah fell to the ground. Completely unconscious.


	2. Terrible news

I stared blankly at the pale green walls that surrounded the waiting room and ran my shoe across the stained white carpet. I shifted uncomfortably on my plastic chair and scanned the small coffee table in front of me in the hopes that a more interesting magazine would appear out of nowhere. I continued to let my eyes drift to the broken coffee machine in the corner which, if working, would also have offered hot chocolate.

This wasn't at all how I had planned to spend my summer. Glancing at my family, I could tell they felt the same way. Chi-Chi was reading a beauty magazine without any signs of interest in it at all. Videl stood by the payphone trying again and again to reach Gohan who was still at the school and tell him what happened. And Goku had his eyes on the ceiling, counting the square white tiles, but because he had never really learnt to count, didn't get much further than 25.

I never really liked hospitals that much, a private fear I had inherited from Goku. Only unlike my grandfather, I wasn't afraid of needles. I hated to admit it, but I was afraid of operations. The idea of a complete stranger opening my body up and moving his hands around in my insides wasn't a comforting thought.

I didn't mind the blood much because I had grown up being exposed to open wounds. So when some doctors rushed into the emergency room, wheeling a bed containing a man who had been run over by a bus, it was actually interesting to watch. And I kept my eyes on the poor man's bloody face until he was wheeled through the hospital doors.

"Awful, isn't it?" Goku said sadly as the man was wheeled away. "I wish I could have been there to save him."

"Is he going to die, grandpa?" I asked, turning my attentions to Goku instead.

"The wounds do look pretty bad. I can't predict the future but judging by the look of him, I'd say he might."

I shuddered, thinking of him dying beyond the doors with mixed feelings. A quarter of me thought that having large wounds like that was pretty cool, another quarter of me pitied him, another filled with curiosity and the final worried about death.

At that moment, Gohan hurried through the doors, white faced and startled.

"I just got your message." He said to Videl. "Is Elijah alright?"

"We don't know." She replied. "Goten and Marron are in there with him but I doubt the doctors will pay them much attention. You just missed them wheel in this man who had been hit by a bus."

"Ouch." Gohan winced. "Poor guy. See the importance of waiting at the crossing, Pan?"

"Actually, I think he looked pretty cool." I only told a quarter of the truth. "He might have a life-long scar or something!"

Gohan and Videl exchanged anxious glances, Chi-Chi's eyes widened in horror and Goku put on the face he only used in a very serious battle.

"Pan; illness and injury isn't cool." Goku said in a voice to match his face. "I should know more than anyone that being hit by a bus isn't a cause for celebration."

"Who said I was celebrating?" I scowled. "I just thought that if he had a life-long scar, it would be pretty cool."

"Not if he's dead." Chi-Chi interrupted and I fell silent, knowing that she was right.

At that moment, Goten and Marron stepped through the emergency ward door, followed by a bald doctor who stared down his nose at us from behind very thick glasses. Even thicker than Gohan's.

"Well.....WHAT HAPPENED!?" Chi-Chi boomed. "My little grandson is ok, isn't he?"

"We are still uncertain, madam." The doctor replied in an official, over-the-top posh voice. "We shall have to keep the boy here overnight until we get the results of his blood test back."

I jumped, wondering what the doctor would think when he saw what blood type Elijah was. Hopefully there would be enough human blood in him to cover up the Sayian blood. Stealing a glance at the rest of the family, I was sure they all felt the same.

"He should be alright though, shouldn't he?" Videl asked worriedly.

"Well we haven't found the time to see to him properly. We have another patient who needs immediate attention. Once we have seen to him, we shall run a better investigation on the boy. You say he fainted right in front of you? He wasn't engaging in any hyperactive activity?"

"Pan was the only one who saw anything." Goku said, nodding in my direction. All attention now turned to me.

"We were.....playing around and he just fainted right in front of me." I mumbled, unsure of what else to say. I couldn't exactly say that he was powering up to reach far above the limitations of natural human strength, could I?

"It could be a number of things. It seems we shall have to wait for the blood tests and keep him here overnight as I said before."

"I'll stay with him." Marron said and the doctor nodded.

"Must go, busy day today. We'll have some nurses move the boy to a children's ward."

Once the doctor had gone, Marron began to cry. That set Chi-Chi off as well though I couldn't see why they were so upset. According to the doctor, it wasn't serious. And with luck, Elijah would be back on his feet in no time.

At least I hoped he would.

(o)  
  
"You're kidding!" Zara gasped over the phone. "Your cousin just fainted away? Right in front of you?"

"Yeah...." I said distantly. It was midnight and everyone else was in bed. Only because I was unable to sleep, I had decided to ring Zara who was always awake at this time.

"Is he ok now?"

"I hope. They ran some tests and they're keeping him at hospital overnight. My Aunt Marron is staying with him."

"That's good. He should be alright. Probably just over excited or too tired. Or maybe it was just too hot. You can faint in the heat if it gets too warm. Did you know that?"

"Really?" I said in fascination. "Wow! Where did you find that out?"

"Some book in my dad's study." Zara replied carelessly. "So there isn't anything to worry about. He'll be back home in no time."

"Your right as always, Zara." I said with a smile. "I should let you go."

"Yeah. Don't want to wake the parents up. Call me to tell me what happens."

"Sure. Goodnight." I said and hung up.

I crept upstairs and lay down quietly in bed, thinking over what Zara had just said. She was right, Elijah probably just fainted because of the heat. And soon enough, he would be back home and feeling healthy. Anyway, he was a quarter Sayian! He should be able to stand up to illness without any trouble.

(o)  
  
Gohan and Videl were awake long before I was the next morning and were downstairs, sitting at the kitchen table with their heads bent and talking in low, serious voices. But as soon as I came into the room, they both looked up and smiled abnormally largely.

"Good morning, Pan!" Videl exclaimed, almost making me believe that an everyday routine was something incredibly exciting for her. "Want some breakfast?"

I didn't answer her directly. I could tell that something was wrong.

"What's wrong with Elijah?"

At once, the smiles on their faces fell and Videl turned her back to me, gathering things to make my breakfast with shaky hands. Gohan pulled out the seat next to his and I sat down carefully, discovering that I was shaking now too.

"It has been undecided." Gohan said slowly and carefully, watching me anxiously from behind his glasses. "The blood test results have come back and they have detected something in there other than the hint of Sayian blood which, luckily, they overlooked. They have sent the blood sample off to a larger hospital for more testing. The results should be back in three days. For now, Elijah has to stay at hospital."

"Why can't he come home?" I asked in a voice too hoarse to be my own.

"In case something happens again. He's woken up now, but he's still very feverish. Something must be terribly wrong. Even quarter Sayians should be able to withstand illness unless it's....."

"Unless it's what?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"Unless it's life threatening." Videl finished, putting a plate in front of me. "I feel so bad for Marron! She's pregnant too, you're not supposed to be under stress if you're pregnant."

"I thought after breakfast we should go and visit them. Goten and Marron will need some cheering up." Gohan said, then gave me a stern glance. "But don't say anything about the illness to Elijah. And don't speak about it around Goten and Marron either. In fact, don't speak about it at all. Stay completely away from the topic. Do you understand?"

I nodded grimly and chewed my breakfast in silence. I could hardly believe it! Why Elijah? And why did it have to happen right at the beginning of the summer holidays?

Life threatening it be real?

(o)  
  
The room Elijah was in was shared with heaps of other children and their parents. They all slept in what reminded me of a boarding school dorm with hospital beds lined up against opposite sides of the room and directly facing each other with only a curtain to draw around the bed for privacy.

Elijah's bed was at the far end of the room, right next to the window. He was sitting amongst the white sheets in a white hospital gown and wearing a large smile. Marron sat in the chair beside him, resting one hand on her stomach which held the baby which was due to be born in two months. With the other hand, she stroked her son's hand comfortingly. Goten stared out the window, lost in thought.

"Look! Uncle Gohan, Aunt Videl and Pan!" Elijah cried and Goten and Marron's faces lit up when they saw us.

"Hey." Gohan said, placing a hand carefully on his baby brother's shoulder. "Thought you might need some cheering up."

"Bought you some flowers." I said, placing the vase of yellow roses on the small table beside Elijah's bed. "I know it's gross and girly but Mum said I had to. I don't see how flowers can make you feel happy."

"They make me feel happy." Elijah grinned, stretching out his arms for me. "I happy you came, Pan."

I hugged him, feeling guilt rush through me. It was my fault he had fainted yesterday. If I had refused to spar with him, Elijah would still be ok. I couldn't believe I could be stupid enough to fight with a toddler who had already been tired out that day.

"Don't worry, Pan. I be ok." Elijah said confidently, sensing my discomfort.

"I _will _be ok, Elijah." Goten said, grinning cheerfully from the window but with sadness in his eyes. "Grandma says we have to teach you the right grammar so you can use it when you get big."

I felt a horrible sensation in my lower gut; but it felt nothing like being punched. Mainly because some part of me knew that Elijah might not need to learn to use correct grammar at all. He may never have the chance to put it into practice.

(o)  
  
The phone rang three days later and I answered it, hoping it was Zara. I had called her several times and she wasn't home. I left messages on her machine but she hadn't answered me yet and I was getting impatient. I needed someone to talk to.

"Hello?" Said a male voice on the end of the phone and I knew straight away that it wasn't Zara speaking. "Is that Pan?"

"Yes, who's speaking?" I asked warily. Zara once told me about this guy who stalked her on her way home from school until he knew her home number and then started giving her funny calls.

"It's Uncle Goten, silly! Don't you recognize me?" He laughed in a Goten-like way and I was reassured. Gosh, he did sound deeper on the phone.

"What's up, Uncle Goten?" I asked, relieved it wasn't some crazy lunatic.

"Is Gohan there? I need to speak to him about something."

"Hold on a minute." I rested the receiver on the bench and screamed. "DAD! GOTEN IS ON THE PHONE!"

Videl came downstairs instead, scowling. "No need to scream, Pan. Dad's in the shower so give the phone to me."

Gingerly, I handed her the phone and walked upstairs to my room until I realized that Goten must be calling about the test results that were supposed to arrive about now! I ran downstairs just in time to see Videl hang up. Her head was hung and tears were streaming down her cheeks.

"Mum..." I asked nervously, putting an arm around her. "What's wrong?"

"Oh Pan." Videl said, no louder than a whisper. "The results for Elijah's test came back today. He has attracted some new disease, a rare one only just discovered in children of his age group. And there is no cure for it. Our worst nightmares are becoming true."

"What are you talking about? What's wrong?" I asked breathlessly.

"Oh Pan, I'm so sorry. Elijah....Elijah is going to die!"

A/N: Just thought that I better mention here that there are no such things as DragonBalls in this story because otherwise my complication would be resolved too easily!


	3. Decisions

I gasped, unsure of how I to react to this. Elijah....going to die? No, it was impossible....it had to be some sort of mistake...

"No," I uttered quietly, shaking my head in disbelief. "No....that can't be right."

"I'm sorry Pan." Videl whispered through tears, moving towards me with her arms outstretched. "There isn't anymore the doctors can do."

"No!" I shouted, my face pale with horror as I shifted away from her. "You're lying!"

"He has no more than three months." Videl cried, tears leaking down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry."

I shook my head fiercely, mouthing wordlessly to myself. Elijah couldn't die....he just couldn't. He was only three years old! And he had been so strong and powerful up until a few days ago. Videl had to be lying....it couldn't be true. But I knew when I looked into the depths of her eyes that this was not a joke...it was real.

Turning quickly, I ran upstairs to my room, hearing Videl's shouts echo in my ears. I ignored her, darting down the corridor to my room and slamming the door shut so savagely that the very walls trembled as if they shared my rage. I ran to my bed, attacking it in a fury of strong punches as I fought within myself to hold my tears at bay.

It was my fault. If I hadn't agreed to fight with him that day, he would still be healthy now. I couldn't believe I had been idiotic enough to allow a toddler to battle with me. And now....

I collapsed onto my bed, no longer able to hold back the tears. My anger and flown from me along with my punches and left me filled with nothing but sadness and depression. Tears leaked down my cheeks and spilled onto my pillow from the corners of my dark eyes, flowing onto my lips so that I could taste a salty and unpleasant sensation in my mouth.

I don't know how long I laid there, weeping in a pool of my own sorrow. But soon my eyes were red and sore, my throat hoarse and painful from emitting gasping sobs. I knew it was unlike my character to cry....but my body and transformed into a fountain of emotions faster than I had thought it ever would. Curling up in a ball against the wall, I tucked the blankets around my own limp form and shivered despite the gentle caress of the summer breeze streaming through my window.

After darkness had fallen, and not a trace of sunlight was left to linger in my room, the door creaked open and faint light seeped inside as the doorframe filled with my father's figure. Shoes plodded across the floor and stopped beside my bed, a rough hand fell against my back and stroked it tenderly, causing me to turn to meet Gohan's eyes, filled with sadness and regret.

"You shouldn't have answered that call." He said strongly and seemingly emotionlessly. "I'm sorry, Pan. I know words won't be able to make the situation any better, but I want you to remember that everyone else will be going through the same turmoil, and we all know how you feel. If you ever want to talk....all you have to do is ask."

"It's my fault." I blurted out. "I shouldn't have agreed to fight him that day."

"No, Pan." Gohan sighed. "It's not your fault. Elijah was already sick that day, and if we didn't find out then, we would have found out sooner or later. Elijah has been sick for a long time, so don't think even for a second that you are the cause for what happened."

Gohan's words made me feel a little better, lifting the intense feelings of guilt from my back, but not relieving my sadness.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked gently. I shook my head instantly in reply...why would I want to talk about it if it would only increase my grief?

"Then get some rest." He suggested, breaking to kiss my softly on the cheek. "I have a feeling we're going to need it."

(o)

"Shit!" Zara cursed under her breath over the phone. "God, Pan...I-I honestly don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything." I replied quietly, clutching the phone to my ear and sprawling out across my bed. "Just tell me why you haven't been answering the phone recently."

"I've been at some stupid country club with my parents." She muttered darkly. "I could go on about it for ages, but I'd much rather concentrate on you right now."

"No, tell me about it." I ordered. "It'll keep my mind off what's happening."

She rambled on about spoilt brats and wealthy dowagers forcing her into horse riding with them and having to wear pink. I silently thanked her for trying to help me feel better, but it wasn't working. Nothing seemed to be able to tear my thoughts away from what was happening.

"Listen, I better go." I interrupted as she began to start on the pointlessness of croquet. "We're going to visit Elijah in hospital soon."

"Ok," She said sadly. "You know....you can always call me if you want to talk."

"I'll take that into account." I smiled against the phone. "See you later."

I hung up and met my parents at the door. Gohan took my hand in his, entwining our fingers together and leading me after him out of the house. Videl walked on in front, carrying a fresh bouquet of flowers.

I scowled at her back. The flowers only made me feel worse.

(o)

Goten was having an intense conversation over his mobile phone when we arrived at the hospital. He noticed my parents and I making our way towards him, escorted by a plump nurse who waddled when she walked and waved us into a door to his right, continuing to speak softly into the phone.

Elijah was in a new hospital ward, entirely on his own. It was surrounded with flowers and get well cards, sent from friends and family members. My heart clenched in my throat when I noticed that most of the cards were labeled '_deepest sympathy_' instead of get well.

Elijah wasn't going to get well at all.

"Pan!" He cried, holding out his arms to me. Putting on a brave smile, I ran into them and held him tightly to my own body, holding back oncoming tears. His body felt so fragile and weak against my own, and when I broke away from him I noticed that his cheeks were pale and thin, his clothes loose and disheveled as he lay amongst layers of purest white blankets.

"How are you feeling?" I asked anxiously.

"A bit funny." He admitted. "But I be ok. What about you? You look sad."

"I am sad." I whispered as sudden realization struck me. "Has your parents told you what's happening to you?"

"They said that I was going to go to a nicer place which was far away from here soon." He said brightly. "But I didn't want to go because I wouldn't be able to play fighting with you anymore. But Mummy said I would be able to see all of you from this special place, so I suppose it doesn't really matter."

My eyes swelled with tears, but I held them back, for his sake. This could, after all, be the last time we saw each other. Each day opened with a fresh chance of his life being torn from mine. I hugged him again tightly, holding his body to my own.

"I love you, Elijah." I whispered into his hair.

"I love you, Pan." He whispered in reply. "Always."

I left the hospital feeling even worse than before. I had long since planned out the coarse of my life, and I had always seen him there with me, growing old with me.

Without Elijah...that future was lost

(o)

"Pan, we need to talk." Videl said suddenly one night during dinner as I toyed with my meal. This was unusual, since my Sayian blood often left me with an appetite. But I didn't feel hungry anymore...

"You remember Bulma and Vegeta?" Gohan asked. "And their children, Trunks and Bra?"

I dropped my spoon and looked into my father's eyes. I had no idea what this had to do with anything....but I nodded truthfully nevertheless. Of course I remembered the Briefs family! They had always been close to us, and apparently Trunks had babysat me during my younger years. Though it had been a good four years since we had last seen them.

"They live in Capsule City, much closer to your school." Videl continued airily. "In the same area as Zara."

"Yeah, I know." I replied curiously, wondering where this conversation would lead.

"Pan, how would you feel about staying with the Briefs these summer holidays?" Asked Gohan, causing my mouth to drop open in shock.

"What!?" I cried, leaping to my feet.

"They live in a very big mansion, with plenty of rooms and lots of space to train in." Videl said hurriedly. "You'd be much closer to Zara and all your other friends from school. Vegeta even has a anti-gravity room you could use to train in!"

"But....why?" I asked with irritable uncertainty.

Videl and Gohan exchanged a shifty glance before Gohan mumbled. "We think it would be better for you, emotionally wise, to get away from all of this. It would be easier for you just to move away for a short while...until all this is over."

"But..." I trailed away, unsure of what to say.

"I called Bulma already, and she says it's no problem. They're expecting you in three days."

I fell back into my chair, unable to take the overload of change that was seeping over me. Elijah was dying....they were sending me away.....what had happened to my perfect summer?

"Pan, we know what's best for you." Gohan said sternly. "Bulma promised to look after you, and I gave her my permission to allow you to go into the city on your own during the day, as long as your home by whatever time suits them. And you can even stay at Zara's place every now and then."

"Can you understand, Pan?" Videl asked almost pleadingly. "We don't want you to have to go through this. It could effect you emotionally and make you unbalanced."

"I know." I answered, smiling sadly. "Anyway, I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

(o)

A/N: Hope you liked the first three chapters. A little sad, I know, but it will get better once Pan arrives at the Brief's. I hope you can see how this is going to turn into a love story, and constructive criticism is welcomed. Please ignore all spelling and grammar mistakes, and keep in mind that I am the girl who got 3/20 on her last spelling test.

Thanks for reading, please review!


	4. Arrival at Capsule corp

A/N: Last update of this story before I go on vacation. I probably won't have the next chapter out until I get back from holidays on the 7th October. So I hope you enjoy this chapter, and remember to overlook any spelling or grammar mistakes.

(o)

I arrived at the Briefs house three days later at ten in the morning after taking the short flight to Capsule city along with my parents.

Capsule city was about a day's journey away from my home by land, and halfway between school and home. Plenty of the kids who attended school with me lived there and took the bus home each day, including Zara. I'd seen it thousands of times on my way to school, but was yet to pay it a proper visit.

"There it is!" Gohan called to me over the rush of the air in our ears. "Capsule corp., that giant building over there, do you see it, Pan?"

I didn't reply as we landed. This was not the first time I had been to Capsule corp. I had been here twice before, once for a barbeque and once again for an after party of Marron, Goten, Bra and Uub's double wedding four years ago. I hadn't been here since, however the large dome mansion hadn't changed in the coarse of four years at all, and everything still remained remarkably the same from the neatly cut pools of green lawn to the sun dancing in the large windows.

Gohan and Videl moved ahead of me as I lulled behind them, carrying two bags over my shoulders and gazing up to my new home for the next three months....away from Elijah and all that was to happen. According to my parents, it was a safe haven made to keep me 'emotionally healthy'. To make me forget what was happening to my family at this very moment. So far, it had failed to work.

As Gohan and Videl approached the front step, I stood behind them to admire the neatly trimmed pools of green lawn, rustling in the cool summer breeze. At home, the grass was long and wild, untamed and untouched by people and left to grow blissfully atop the mountains. But here, there was not a single strand of grass too long, nor a flower out of place along the hedges that surrounded the fence circling the property. It was almost artificial....unnatural.

"Pan?" Videl asked quietly, beckoning me to her from the doorstep. "Pan, sweetie, come on."

"I thought we agreed on no baby talk." I scowled, but refused to budge from the front path leading to the doorstep where both parents stood.

Gohan rung the doorbell and it was opened by a middle aged woman, wrinkled and touched by age yet still showing signs of once being elegant and beautiful. Her short teal hair shimmered in the sunlight, and her eyes glistened with a lost youth. The green dress she wore was made for a younger woman, designed in the latest and most fashionable style and clung to her slender frame. Yet it somehow didn't seem to fit with the kindly old face of a motherly figure.

"Gohan! Videl!" The woman exclaimed, pulling both my parents into a savage hug. "It's been far too long!"

"Good to see you too, Bulma." Gohan replied awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck in my grandfather's trademark style that he seemed to have inherited. "How've you been?"

"Better than you have, I'm sure." Bulma frowned sympathetically. "I'm so sorry about Elijah!"

"We all are." Videl replied sadly. "How's Trunks been holding up?"

It struck me as odd that Videl should be asking about Trunks at first. But I soon remembered that Trunks was Goten's best friend. I began to paw the grass with the toe of my sneaker, churning the grass and flipping it over to reveal patches of dirt beneath it, thankful that none seemed to be paying me any attention for the time being.

"Not too well." Bulma answered. "But no doubt its been much worse for Goten and Marron. Are you going up to the hospital later?"

Gohan nodded. "As soon as Pan is settled in."

All eyes turned to me, and I hurriedly pushed the grass back over the visible dirt clods embarrassedly before meeting their eyes. Bulma was smiling broadly from the doorframe, her delicate arms folded across her chest.

"Nice to see you, Pan!" She said cheerfully. I hadn't expected any human to be able to change from sadness to joy in such a short amount of time. Little did I know, I was yet to experience the full strength of Bulma's mood swings. "Welcome to Capsule corp."

"Hey." I said calmly, dusting my blue gloved hands on my already dusty cargo pants before stepping forward and holding it out to Bulma. She took it with a surprisingly firm grip, shaking it with her own.

"Why don't you all come inside and get something to eat?" Bulma asked, holding the door open even wider than it had been before. "You don't need to stand on our footpath for the next three months, you know, Pan."

"Right." I mumbled rather idiotically. Taking my bags in my hands once more and joining my parents on the doorstep.

"No, we better go actually. I promised Goten that I'd meet him up at the hospital as soon as I'd dropped Pan off." Gohan explained and Bulma nodded.

"He needs you up there." Bulma rested a hand on my father's shoulder comfortingly. "Send my love to the others, and don't worry about Pan. I promise to take good care of her."

"I know you will." Gohan smiled, bending slightly so that his eyes level was equal to mine. For a brief moment, I mentally cursed myself for being so short when most children my age were already equal to the height of their parents. He hugged me tightly, almost crushing me underneath his strong arms.

"Have fun, ok?" He almost pleaded, pecking me on the cheek. "Mum and I will pick you up after all this is over. Don't worry about Elijah, and try to take your mind of things."

"I will." I lied. I didn't see how I would be able to forget when Elijah was dying only a short distance away from me. I moved away from my father quickly, conscious of the fact that Bulma was watching this display of affection.

Videl stepped forward next, pulling me into a rib crushing hug. We said nothing, but I was certain that I saw tears staining her eyes when she finally loosened her hold on me and let me take in much needed air.

The they were gone, hurrying off down the pavement.

"Come inside." Bulma ordered once both my parents had disappeared from view. "Let's get you something to eat."

Capsule corp. looked even larger inside. The front hall actually reminded me of a hospital (which was ironic since I was meant to be coming here in order to take my mind off things) with pallid white walls and sapphire tiles, all cut into perfect shape and order. Several pictures lined the walls, and large, leafy pot plants were scattered and pressed up against the walls. Several doors led to other rooms and other corridors, and pictures hung on any bare space of wall left over.

I dumped my bags on the floor with a crash, and stared around the giant hall in awe. Even if I had been her twice before, Capsule corp. still managed to amaze me in comparison to my own home, which was made off wood and only two stories high. I may have seen most of the area before, but I was yet to fully explore the mansion house.

"Now, let me show you to your room." Bulma said cheerily. "I've put you in Bra's old room, just down the corridor from Trunks'. From what I remember, you and Trunks used to get on pretty well. He even babysat you for a time, didn't he?"

"Yeah." I said absent mindedly. Bulma opened a nearby door and started down a corridor, with me shuffling behind and carrying both bags. She twisted to make sure I was following her every now and then, as if she expected me to somehow disappear and get lost. With the size of the house, I wouldn't be surprised if this did happen. The longer the corridor seemed to stretch, the more I seemed to wonder if I'd be able to remember the way to my room again.

Bulma finally arrived at a large white double door and pushed it open to reveal a staircase leading to an upper story. After ascending two staircases, she took me down yet another corridor and finally to another set of white double doors. She swung them open, holding them for me as I stepped into the room that lay beyond.

The room was elaborately decorated, with a giant king sized bed. From what I'd heard of Bulma's daughter, Bra, she hadn't been much of a decorator in her younger years, so obviously Bulma had made some improvements. Everything (much to my disgust) had a pink tinge, from the colour of the walls and the carpet to the bedspread and matching curtains covering the large window. A small door off to the side led to a white tiled bathroom, and another led to a large closet that would be able to hold ten times the amount of clothing I had brought with me. A bookcase that stood to the side was stashed with unwanted books, and the huge desk was home to a high tech computer and a telephone.

I crossed the room and put both bags on the bed, becoming aware of how out of place they were in this unique pink haven. I must have looked even more so, in my cargos and loose fitting grey shirt, with my hair out and disheveled and a bandanna wrapped around my head. My sneakers were making scuff marks on the fluffy carpet, and the dirt on my gloves was rubbing off on the bed sheets. I quickly moved my bags over this to hide it from Bulma, who was leaning against the doorframe and watching me.

"I gave this room a big tidy up after Bra moved out. I always hoped that there would one day be another little girl who could occupy it, and perhaps one who actually had good fashion sense." Bulma scowled, catching the look of distaste that must have been evident on my face. "Don't you like it?"

I couldn't lie to her, but I couldn't meet her eyes either. I began to unzip my bag with shaking hands. "I-It really isn't my style."

"Ah, I see." Bulma sighed, eyeing me up and down as she came to realize just what my style was. "Well, why don't you unpack you things and then we can get something to eat. Hey, why don't we go shopping later!?"

"Err....I'm not really the shopping type." I mumbled, causing Bulma to sigh yet again. "Actually, I'm not really hungry either. Would it be alright with you if I just...rest for a while?"

"Sure." Bulma grinned. "Dinner is at seven. I'll have Trunks show you to the kitchen then. If you want anything, my work number is next to the phone. Call me in the lab and I'll be right over. You're welcome to use the computer as well, if you want."

"Thanks." I forced a smile as Bulma carefully shut the door. I waited until I had heard Bulma's footsteps fade away before I ran to the phone and dialed Zara's number.

"I'm here." I said, the moment Zara answered the phone. I had called her yesterday to tell her that I was going to stay at Capsule corp. in Capsule City with family friends. She had made me swear to call her the moment I arrived.

"How is everything?" Zara asked me worriedly. "The Briefs aren't stuck up sobs like my family, are they?"

"No...well, I've only met Bulma Briefs so far." I replied with a laugh. "Believe it or not, but she's actually worse than your mother."

"I suspected as much." Zara laughed in reply. "Not only are the Briefs rich, but they're also famous. No doubt they're a stuck up bunch of snobs. Now you know what I have to deal with every day. I still can't believe your family are friends with them."

"Oh Bulma isn't stuck up or anything." I defended. "She's just really....girly. I mean, everything in my room is pink for crying out loud! And she just asked me if I wanted to go shopping! Shopping! I would have thought that she would have been able to see from the sort of clothes I wear that I'm not that sort of person."

I had to pause while Zara recovered from a laughing fit. "Sounds like your summer is going to be as terrible as mine. But at least you don't have to worry about Elijah or anything like that."

"Hmm...." I mumbled, wishing that Zara hadn't brought that up. I was actually beginning to forget the reason why I was here for a moment...

"Sorry." Zara stuttered. "I didn't mean to-"

"It's alright." I interrupted. "Hey, since we're both suffering from summer boredom, why don't we meet up somewhere tomorrow."

"Sure. How about we meet outside the mall." Zara joked. "Hey don't worry, we don't actually have to go _in _the mall. Actually, there's a nearby car park that's pretty good for skating."

"All right." I shrugged. "My parents told Bulma that I'm allowed to hang out with you in the holidays, so she really can't stop me from going. Say we meet around nine?"

"I was thinking earlier." Zara said happily. "I can't wait to escape my parents. But nine's good for me."

"Cool." I grinned. "See you tomorrow, then."

"Okay." I moved to drop the phone, but she stopped me with an urgent tone. "Oh, and tell me what Trunks Briefs looks like. Apparently, he's meant to be pretty hot."

"I'll pretend you didn't say that." I scowled. "I'm not going to try and chat up my old babysitter, Zara. In fact, I'm not planning on chatting up anyone at all. I'll see you tomorrow."

I dropped the phone and lay down on the unusually soft bed, chuckling to myself until I drifted into a restless sleep.

(o)

A/N: Last chapter until the 7th October because I'm going on holidays. I didn't actually get the time to edit this, so once again, please ignore all spelling and grammar mistakes.

Thanks for reading, please review!


	5. Meeting Trunks

A/N: I'm back from holidays, and with a new chapter! Hope you enjoy it!

(o)

I awoke sometime in the late afternoon. I was impressed with myself for sleeping in for so long, because I hadn't been able to get a decent night's rest after I found out what happened with Elijah and the constant exhaustion I had been feeling was incredibly strong. Coupled with my ability to sleep in so much inherited from my father had resulted in my extra long nap.

Feeling refreshed and somewhat healthy, I decided to take a shower since I still had a few hours left before Bulma had informed me of dinner. I unzipped my bags and dumped the contents onto the bed, rummaging through the heap for bathroom supplies and clean clothes. I took the rest and tossed it messily into the closet. As suspected, my things only took up one small corner of the closet, and the room left over was equal to the size of my own bedroom. I actually even considered sleeping in there. It was the only space in my entire room that wasn't pink.

After tossing the empty bags in the closet as well, I slammed the door shut and marched into the bathroom, not bothering to shut the door since it was connected to my room and the possibility of anyone walking in was very low. The bathroom was, like everything else in Capsule corp., huge. The shower was twice the size of the one I had at home, and the bubble bath was a large marble square that could have easily held ten people.

I put my things on the corner counter between the two sinks and packed my bathroom supplies into a small corner of the bathroom cabinet. I stripped off and turned on the shower, relaxing as the warm water drizzled over my bare skin. My thick black strands of raven hair felt heavy against my back as I rubbed shampoo through it and washed it off again. I must have stayed in the shower for an eternity, because the sky was a dusty shade of fading sunset outside the tiny bathroom window by the time I stepped out of the shower and dried myself, wrapping a towel around my body and taking my clothes in my hands.

How could I have known that the room wouldn't be empty? There was no way I could have heard another person approaching with the sound of water pounding in my ears. So none could blame me from screaming with shock when I noticed the figure standing in the doorframe. The figure screamed too, partly from shock, and backed out into the hall hurriedly. His voice was low and deep, informing me that it was a man.

"YOU BASTARD!" I shouted, searching for something to chuck at the newcomer. There was a bowl of assorted plastic fruits sitting beside my table, which would have to do. In an instant, I had them in my hands and was pelting the man with plastic apples. "You little pervert! Get the hell out of here! What the hell are you doing here, anyway!?"

"I live here!" The man retorted, just as a plastic grapevine bounced off his body without any effect. I stopped throwing the plastic fruits and dropped the bowl in alarm as I caught sight of the man in the hall properly.

He was a young man, somewhere in his twenties, I supposed. He was tall, muscular and strong in appearance, with an air of softness and self pride. His skin was lightly and evenly tanned, his hair soft and disheveled cut in a unique style with two pieces falling into his face. It was a pale shade of lavender (which couldn't be a natural colour) but seemed to fit him perfectly and match his purest blue eyes masked by thick lavender eyebrows and hidden behind thick glasses similar to my father's. He sat on the floor, his legs spread apart and his arms behind him to support his body as he stared into my eyes with shock shining in his own. The moment I directly met eyes with the man, I knew exactly who he was.

"Oh God!" I cried, bending to pick up the fruits and still clutching the towel around my body. "I'm so sorry...I mean, I-I didn't know who you were!"

The one thing I remembered most clearly about Trunks Briefs was that everything about him was soft, in some way from his manner and tone to the surface of his sky blue eyes. They say that when you leave your eyes unguarded, they can be the mirror of your soul. If this was so, and if Trunks' eyes were unguarded at this moment, it meant that even his soul was soft. He stood in a single, low movement, shaking invisible dust off his unfitting brown suit and white collared shirt. The top button of the shirt was undone and the tie was hanging loosely around his neck.

"Err...hello." He mumbled in a voice warm and deep. "It has definitely been a while, hasn't it, Pan-Chan?"

Pan-Chan? What was with the formalities? I dropped the plastic fruits back into their bowl and sat on the bed, making sure that my legs were still together. Almost immediately, I realized just how disgusting this must have seemed given my current lack of clothing and jumped to my feet instantly.

"Yeah." I answered him awkwardly. "N-Nice to see you, Trunks-Kun."

I figured that it was only polite to address him like this, because he showed me the same courtesy. Trunks beamed, moving back into the doorframe and folding his arms across his chest as he leaned to the side.

"Nice to see you too."

There was an uncomfortable silence, as Trunks stared lamely at the floor and I shivered from the cold, becoming conscious of the fact that I was half naked in front of an old childhood friend.

"Um...could you just wait outside for a minute, please?" I asked meekly, seeing no other way to rephrase this. "I-I kind of need to get some clothes on."

Trunks' cheeks burned a light shade of pink, and he scratched his head, ruffling his hair even more than it already had been. "Oh, sorry about that. I-I just came to tell you that it's time for dinner."

"Oh." I said. "Ok."

"Come out when you've finished getting dressed and I'll show you how to get to the kitchen." He stumbled, shuffling out the door and shutting the double doors carefully. I could hear him laughing softly to himself out in the corridor.

_What a jerk! _I thought to myself bitterly, taking my clothes into the closet to change. After that little façade, I was very reluctant to change out in the openness of my giant room ever again. I knew that Trunks couldn't have known I was in the shower, and like me, he was completely innocent for the crime he'd just committed. But even so, when your old babysitter bursts into your room and finds you standing there with a towel wrapped around your body, you are very reluctant to forgive them.

I dressed hurriedly and scrubbed my hair dry with a towel, not bothering to brush it but tying my orange bandanna around my head quickly while pondering Trunks' reaction to me when we first talked. So I'm Pan-Chan, huh? It was hard to believe that this was the same guy who had once called me 'Panny'.

Trunks was waiting patiently in the hall, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest yet again. He jerked his head down the corridor before me moved down it, gesturing for me to follow. I scurried after him, having to jog to keep up with his long, firm strides. He was so much taller than me.

"Sorry about my appearance." He apologized, though I didn't see why he should. I was just as poorly dressed as he was. "I just got off work, you see, and I didn't bother to change."

"So you go into work dressed like that?" I questioned rudely, eyeing his untucked shirt, wrinkled brown pants and the tie undone and thrown carelessly across his shoulders with his top button unbuttoned and his belt unbuckled. Me must have pocketed his glasses while he was standing out in the hall, because they were no where to be seen. "I don't think your boss would be too happy with you if you turned up to work like that."

I only realized just how rude my comment sounded and was about to apologize when Trunks burst out in sunny laughter. Unlike the rest of him, his laugh was anything but soft. It was a wild, sunny laugh that seemed to brighten up the dimly lit corridor we were following at the time. As soon as his laugh had died away, I felt somewhat empty and everything resumed its usual dull and colorless effect. I wanted to make him laugh again, just to hear the sound once more. I searched for something I could say that would sound funny, but I couldn't think of anything, so allowed silence to consume us for the rest of the trip.

(o)

"Have a good rest, Pan?" Asked Bulma as she served me a large serving of potatoes. I had never been too fond of potatoes, and what I really craved was a huge platter of fish. The steak and kidney pie, vegetables and mashed potatoes on the plate in front of me didn't look too appetizing. But food was food. I nodded before digging in, letting my Sayian side taking over as I made a pig of myself.

None looked on in disgust. Trunks had even more Sayian blood in him than I did, and was just as hungry. His father, the short and dark full blooded Sayian prince, was the worst of all, spraying food everywhere as he ate.

"Vegeta!" Bulma cried. "Could you make some effort to be civilized, please? We have company."

Vegeta merely grunted, turning back to his food, but perhaps taking more care to be neat than before.

"How was work, Trunks?" Bulma asked, attempting to make pleasant conversation. Although making pleasant conversation with Sayians during mealtime was usually a very hard thing to accomplish.

"Horrible." Trunks managed to say through a mouthful of food. "Really boring, too."

"I thought you liked working at Capsule corp.!" Bulma exclaimed. "The Chinese say that if you pick a job you like, you never work a day in your life."

"Well we're not Chinese, Mum." Trunks replied softly.

I snorted into my plate, hiding it by taking a long swig of water. Bulma chose to ignore this.

"So Pan, how's school?" Bulma turned to me instead. I swallowed the lump of pie in my throat before I spoke.

"Horrible." I smiled, and Trunks grinned at me from across the table. "Really boring too."

"Urgh, I can't take this!" Vegeta complained, dishing up more food onto his plate. "If you want to engage in senseless talk, fine! But don't expect me to stick around."

With that, he took his plate and marched away. Trunks and Bulma exchanged a sage smile, but I sat in confusion.

"What's his problem?" I asked curiously.

"Vegeta has a...unique personality." Bulma smirked. "He's prone to do things like that often for no reason. You'll get used to it with time, don't worry."

"Oh." I stuttered, then decided I may as well tell Bulma about my plans for tomorrow now. "Well, is it alright with you if I meet up with a friend tomorrow?"

"Of course!" Bulma said delightedly. "As long as you tell me when you're going and when you're going to be back. Your friend can even come back here later if she wants. What's her name anyway?"

"Zara." I said. "Zara Black."

"Never heard of a Black family." Bulma said thoughtfully. "Wait, do you know the Carter family? They're our neighbors. Have a son your age I think, who goes to Orange Star High as well. I think his name is....Mason."

Mason!? Mason was my neighbor! Could life get any worse right now?

"Well, I think I'll go to bed." I mumbled, getting to my feet. "Thanks for dinner, Bulma."

"Goodnight, Pan!" Bulma beamed brightly.

"Goodnight." I replied, nodding to both mother and son before (by some miracle) I found my way back to my room.


	6. Quite a difference

A/N: I don't own any songs by Enigma

(o)

I hardly slept at all last night. Partly because I had already slept too much during the day and was no longer tired, and partly because I was afraid to.

The one time I had fallen asleep, I'd had a dream about Elijah. He was sitting in a tiny room in the very corner, crying. Everything was dark....there were no windows in the room at all. He saw me, and reached out for me....begging me to save him....to help him....I couldn't....I wanted to, but I couldn't....I couldn't touch 't reach him...

I awoke with a start, sweat dripping down my back and drenching my hair. I had scrambled out of bed, showered again and then changed into jeans and an old shirt. I'd called Zara, but she didn't answer her phone, meaning that she must have been out. Instead, I sat in front of Bra's old computer and scanned the internet out of pure boredom until I heard my stomach rumble and decided to get some food.

Unfortunately, I hadn't paid the slightest attention to where I was going when Trunks had shown me to the kitchen. I stumbled around in the darkness for a while, only becoming more and more lost until a door sprung open and something banged into me in the dark. I held in a shrill scream that threatened to escape, rounding on whatever it was and punched it.

"Ow!" Cried a soft, male voice. I swore under my breath- how could I hurt the same person twice in one day unintentionally? Now Trunks probably thought I had something against him...

"Sorry, I didn't see you there." I said apologetically.

"It's alright, Pan-Chan." Trunks smiled through the darkness. "Where are you off to?"

"Kitchen." I replied. "Bulma's steak and kidney pie really isn't that appetizing."

I got my wish. Trunks laughed again, not bothering to stifle it since our rooms were so far away from Bulma and Vegeta's, the only other two people in the huge house.

"I agree." He chuckled. "Why don't we get some real food?"

I allowed him to lead me to the kitchen, his outline the only thing guiding me through the darkness. Eventually, we came to the kitchen and he flicked on the lights, illuminating the kitchen. I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the light until I felt my cheeks redden when I saw Trunks raiding the fridge in just a white vest and powder blue boxers. He didn't seem to be bothered by his lack of clothing, and I supposed he'd worn just as much around me before. But even so, I felt my cheeks reddening and turned away from him hurriedly. I usually slept in a shirt and my underwear. Thankfully, I had bothered to change.

"Here we go." He said triumphantly, dumping a bunch of ingredients on the kitchen counter. "Would you object to pancakes, Pan-Chan?"

"I was named after pancakes." I said, scrambling onto a stool and resting my elbows on the counter in front of me, using my hands to support my head. "My mum had a craving for them when she was pregnant with me, so she named me Pan."

"Oh I see!" Trunks said through a laugh. "I always wondered where your name came from, Pan."

"Well now you know." I grinned as he began to pour the ingredients into a bowl and stirred it. "Hey, what about your name? Where did that come from?"

"Well, my last name is Briefs." Trunks turned to face me, leaning against the counter as he stirred. "My mother's first name is Bulma, and my sister's first name is Bra. Put two and two together and you'll have your answer."

It took me a few moments to decipher is cryptic sentences before I realized that he was named after underwear. I decided it would be more polite not to make any comments. Growing up with a name like Trunks Briefs mustn't have been a walk in the park and he was probably sensitive about it.

"Why are you up?" I asked, remembering that he had not intentionally been making his way to the kitchen.

"Oh, I just couldn't sleep, got bored and decided to go for a walk when I ran into you." He smiled, dumping the pancake mix into a frying pan and holding it over a hotplate. "It's not unusual for me. I always wake up around this time."

"You always wake up around 4:00am?" I glanced at the clock on the oven. "Man, and I thought I had problems."

Trunks laughed yet again, much to my delight. He tossed the cooked pancakes onto two separate plates and served one to me, sliding butter and maple syrup across the table and dragging a stool around the bench so he could sit opposite me. We ate in silence, too busy stuffing our faces to make conversation. I found it ironic that Trunks' pancakes were fluffy and soft, just like everything else to do with him.

"So." He said once we'd both finished and he collected my empty plate. "Better than steak and kidney pie?"

"Much better." I complimented. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." He paused, scrubbing the plates in the sink before placing them into the dishwasher. Once he'd finished, he met me squarely in the eyes and spoke sternly, but still managing to keep his voice soft. "Hey, what are you doing tomorrow?"

"Spending the whole day with a friend, why?" I raised an eyebrow in question.

"No reason." Trunks' cheeks flushed a light shade of pink. "What are you and your friend going to do?"

"I don't know." I said truthfully. "We just wanted something to do, so we decided to meet at the mall at nine."

"You don't seem the sort of person who'd like shopping." Trunks grinned, causing me to pull a face.

"I don't. We just thought it would be a good meeting place."

"How are you getting there?" The question seemed odd in my opinion, but I answered nevertheless.

"I'll walk, I guess. Or I'll take public transport."

"Why don't I drive you?" He suggested. "I could take you and your friend all around Capsule City, if you want. I know the place like the back of my hand."

"No, I couldn't ask you to do that." I protested, although sitting in Trunks Brief's car didn't really sound like a bad idea. And it was better than getting a bus. But it still wasn't practical or polite of me to ask that of him. "Don't you have work tomorrow?"

"That's the beauty of it, you see?" Trunks grinned devilishly, in a way that would have made his father proud. "If I tell my mum that I'm showing you around the city, then she won't object to me missing a day of work. So it's a win, win situation. What do you say?"

I grinned in reply. He really didn't like that job of his, did he? "All right. I think I'm going to turn in, see you tomorrow then, I suppose."

"Goodnight, Pan-Chan!" He called as I reached the door to the kitchen.

I froze, glancing over my shoulder to see him sitting innocently on one of the stools. "You can call me Pan if you want. I wouldn't mind."

The voice that came from my mouth wasn't my own. It was shyer, softer and calmer. For a moment, I didn't even recognize myself. But Trunks seemed to like this tone of voice much more (that or my suggestion) because his entire face lit up in a blazing smile.

"Then Pan it is."

(o)

Trunks wrapped on my door at eight thirty the following morning. It seemed that he'd learnt his lesson and decided it would be best to knock before opening my door. I wrenched it open, putting a wide smile on my face to mirror his.

"Ready to go?" He asked, and I nodded in reply. "Great, let's go."

Trunks' car was waiting patiently out on the street outside Capsule corp. I stared at it in awe, having never imagined that such a vehicle existed. I wasn't completely blocked off from the rich community because my grandfather happened to be a famous fraud, taking credit for my father's deeds. But Hercule Satan's chauffeured limo was nothing compared to Trunks' self driven car. It was deepest black, as glossy as a polished grapefruit and shimmering as the sunlight danced across its smooth surface. The metal was so well polished that I could see my own reflection blinking back at me from the bonnet.

"Like it?" Trunks inquired, although the answer to his question should have been obvious judging by the expression on my face. "I thought you would. It's my favorite car too."

"You have more than one?" I asked in disbelief. Trunks nodded, opening the door to the passenger's side and standing back to let me inside.

"You don't need to be so formal." I scowled. "I'm not so helpless that I can't open a door myself."

"Sorry." Trunks apologized. "But in all truthfulness, you're the first woman I've ever had in this car, besides my mother and my sister."

I was? This came as a shock to me. I would have thought that a man like Trunks would have no problem finding himself a girlfriend. Perhaps he was like me, and simply didn't want to find himself a partner. Frankly, I couldn't blame him. My mother had once been the strongest human woman in the world, but look what happened to her when she got married? She turned into a housewife! This was why I never wanted to find someone....I didn't want to become soft.

But Trunks was naturally soft....

"Ok." Trunks said, climbing into the driver's seat and slamming the door shut as I became accustomed to the leather interior of the car. "Where to?"

"Zara's place." I instructed, suddenly remembering that I had no idea where that was. "Err...the White family's place?"

"The White family?" Trunks pulled a face. "You're actually friends to them?"

"Only their daughter." I defended. "But she isn't anything like them. Is everyone in this city interrelated or something? You and Bulma seem to know everyone."

"Only the rich families." Trunks replied. "I know, sad isn't it?"

He didn't give me a chance to reply, because the second he turned the engine on, music began to scream from his car radio. He flicked it off immediately, his cheeks burning red.

"Sorry about that, Pan." He apologized.

"I didn't know you liked Enigma." I mused.

"Only when I drive." Trunks mumbled, steering the car out onto the road and around a corner.

"You're not the only one." I replied. "Turn it back on if you want."

Smiling shyly, Trunks flicked the radio back on and cruised down the streets of Capsule City. He swerved around a corner and glided down several streets effortlessly, proving that he had been driving for quite a long time. I smiled- even his driving style was soft.

"This is going to come out rude." I said randomly. "But how old are you?"

"Not rude at all." Trunks replied, keeping his eyes on the road. "I'm a pretty open person, so you can ask me anything you like, Pan. I'm 29."

That old? I hadn't expected that! But when I considered that he was best friends with my uncle, who had to be at least 28, it made sense. Somehow, my heart seemed to sink when I heard this piece of information for reasons unknown to me, and I was reluctant to continue the conversation.

"That's quite a difference." I said, sadness entwined into my words without me even meaning it to. "Between us, I mean."

Trunks sighed, replying just as sadly, perhaps even more so. "Sure is."


	7. Touring Capsule City

A/N: You may notice that I spell 'color' as 'colour'. No, this is not a typo-I'm Australian, and we spell 'color' as 'colour' in Australia.

By the way, Zara's REAL name is Madeline Rose White as said in the first chapter. She just changed it while at school

(o)

We pulled up in front of a giant white mansion, surrounded with a large barred gold gate and white wall that hid the garden and the base of the house from view. The top story (the fourth floor, as Zara had told me) was just visible over the wall's surface, and palm trees sprouting and growing above the wall's limits as well.

Trunks pulled the car over in the street and turned in his seat to face me. "I'll wait here. Sorry, but I have several bad memories of my last visit to this house, and I hope you can understand that I don't want to go in again."

"Sure." I laughed. "See you in a minute."

I lowered myself out of Trunks' car and hurried to the gate, unable to see how on earth I was going to get inside. Eventually, I spied an intercom attached to the wall and pressed the button, speaking into it.

"Hey, my name's Pan Son. I'm Zara's friend." I explained. "We were going to meet at the mall today, but I decided to pick her up instead."

"One moment, please, Miss Son." A male voice cackled in reply. The gates opened automatically, and I gaped when I saw the elaborate garden that lay on the other side. It had been designed to look like a island paradise, with small shrubs, tall palm trees and water features littering the large grounds. A long drive ran up to the main house, where a large fountain stood in the center of a round-a-bout, spilling water from the mouth of a fish at the top.

By the time I made it as far as the fountain, Zara had arrived at the front step of her house, dressed (as always) in all black and with a wide smile spread across her face. She met me at the fountain, grabbed my hand and yanked me back down the path.

"Hey, I want to see your house!" I wailed.

"No, you don't." Zara replied bitterly. "No one wants to go in there unless it's perfectly necessary."

"Say no more." I frowned, remembering the stories Zara had told me of her family at school. I allowed her to pull me to Trunks' car.

"Whoa!" Zara cried when she saw the car waiting for us out the front of her house. "Don't tell me that Briefs gave you that car for the holidays, Pan."

"Unfortunately, no. I couldn't drive it anyway." I reasoned. "It belongs to Trunks. He said he'd drive us anywhere we want to go today."

"No kidding!" Zara exclaimed. "Trunks Briefs, huh? What's he like, anyway?"

"You're about to find out." I grinned, pushing her towards the car and into the backseat. I climbed in behind her, slamming the door shut.

"Hey." Trunks greeted, holding a hand up to Zara and watching us through the review mirror. "I'm Trunks."

"Z-Z-Z-Zara." Zara stuttered, the colour drained from her face. She stared at him, transfixed, unable to tear her eyes from him. I sighed exhaustedly. I would never have expected Zara, of all people, to act this way.

"Nice to meet you." Trunks nodded, revving up the engine. "So where to, ladies?"

"Anywhere." Zara squeaked weakly. I shook my head in distaste.

"Take us somewhere fun, Trunks." I ordered. "Like a skate park or something."

"There's a skating rink somewhere near here." Trunks replied, switching the radio off so he could talk to us. "That sound ok?"

"Sounds fine." I shrugged. Obviously there was no point in consulting Zara, who was mouthing wordlessly and still staring at Trunks as if he would disappear if she moved her eyes away from him.

(o)

The skating rink was much better than I had expected it to be. There wasn't a prissy or irritating girl in sight. In fact, Zara and I were the only girls in the entire complex. Trunks rented us each a pair of roller blades and helped Zara strap hers on because her hands were far to weak to do it herself.

"Ok, let's go." Trunks said with a smile. Nodding, I got to my feet and skated after him. Zara sat where she was, trembling.

"Haven't you skated before?" Trunks questioned. I smacked my forehead in irritation.

"Yes she has." I said in annoyance. "Come on, Zara. Get up."

Obediently, Zara got to her feet and managed to hold her balance. Together, we made our way out onto the skating rink, Zara clinging to the wall for support. I thought I was going to be sick.

Trunks took my hand. I hadn't expected him to do it, so I nearly fell over myself when he did. He smiled, stabilizing me as he began to glide away from the wall. I clung to his hand, using my free hand to tug Zara after us.

We circled the rink several times until our feet became accustomed to the blades. When we reached the entrance to the rink for the umpteenth time, Trunks let my hand go and rounded to face me, a smirk playing on his face.

"What would you say to a race?"

"I'd say let's go." I grinned in reply, letting go of Zara's hand. She immediately clutched onto the wall.

"Is your friend ok?" Trunks questioned worriedly in my ear. His breath tickled my skin and reluctantly sent a shiver running down my spine.

"Zara's fine." I said. "Just a little lovesick."

"Oh." Trunks said understandingly. "Believe it or not, but I get that a lot."

"Oh I believe it." I said, without really considering what this meant. I added quickly, "From what I've seen, of course."

"Come on." Trunks pulled me forward. "Let's go."

We sped around a group so slow skaters, rounding each corner neatly. Trunks glided, almost flying, across the rink with a unique beauty only he seemed to possess. The blank tank top and loose fitting jeans he wore fluttered in the breeze he created as he moved. I smiled into his back, hardly registering the fact that I was only inches away from him. We collided, and fell to the floor in a laughing heap.

"You ok?" Trunks asked, pulling me back to my feet. I slipped again, and fell over again, pulling him with me. "Shit, you're terrible at this."

"Speak for yourself." I lied. "You suck!"

"Hey, I've been doing this a lot longer than you have, Miss Son." He retorted. "And you're the one who made me fall over anyway."

"You still fell over." I argued. "Oh come on, let's get some food."

(o)

Trunks drove us to a café and the three of us sat down at a table together. I became conscious of a few blonde haired girls sitting at a table a short way away from us, giggling and whispering through their hands, pointing in Trunks' direction. I felt my heart catch in my throat, and my hands clench into fists, but held myself in my seat, not entirely sure why I was acting this way myself.

There were others staring at us as well, but for different reasons. They must have noticed the age difference between Trunks, Zara and I. What made things worse was my height, causing me to appear half my age. Luckily, the café was mainly filled with young people, who couldn't have cared less if Trunks appeared to be dating two teenagers.

After we ate a silent meal in which Trunks and I tried to stop ourselves from drawing even more attention to each other and Zara swooned over the man sitting opposite her, only really picking at her food, Trunks paid for the food and we all piled back into his car.

"Why don't we go to the beach or something now?" Trunks suggested. "I know that no one is really prepared for a swim, but it's still nice to walk there. It'll be really nice when the sun sets as well."

"Why not?" I shrugged. "Nothing better to do."

Trunks was right. The beach was incredibly beautiful. The water was crystal clear, the sand a golden yellow and the sky was a perfect powder blue...exactly the colour of Trunks' eyes...

We walked along the edge of the water, dabbling our bare feet in the water and carrying our shoes in our hands. Trunks walked in the middle of us, bumping against me every now and then accidentally. My body automatically tensed at his soft touch, but I found myself unable to move away from him. Cursing myself for sounding like a lovesick teenager, I pushed back my fringe and savored the feeling of the salty air on my pale skin.

"Summer's beautiful, isn't it?" Trunks asked openly as the sun began to set, and we turned to make our way back to his car.

"Sure is." I answered quietly, just as a young boy ran past me, piles of sand clenched in his tiny fists. "If only life could be as beautiful as the season."

"Oh Pan, I'm sorry." Trunks apologized quickly. "I didn't mean to-"

"You didn't do anything intentionally." I smiled weakly. "Let it go."

I walked back to the car with thoughts of Elijah circling my head.

(o)

"My God!" Zara shouted to me over the phone later that night. "Trunks is hot!"

"I gathered you thought so from the way you acted around him all day." I answered dryly. "Really, Zara, you need to get a grip on yourself!"

"Do you think I'd have a chance with him?" She wondered, awe mixed into her voice.

"He's 29 years old!" I protested. "Besides, I don't think he's really your type."

"Of course he's my type. He's perfect!" Zara argued. "Perhaps there's hope for our generation after all. He actually gives me something to live for. So, can we do the same thing again tomorrow?"

"I doubt it." I sighed. "Trunks can't afford to miss anymore days at work. I overheard Bulma telling him off after dinner tonight. He's in deep shit because he's been missing so much work recently. I don't really think he likes his job."

"What does he do?" Zara inquired.

"Something for his mother's company, I think." I said absent mindedly. "I don't know what exactly."

"That's boring!" Zara complained. "No wonder he hates his job."

"Still think he's your type?" I sniggered.

"Hell yes!" Zara cried. "Only problem is that he seems to have become a slave to the system. But I can fix him up, no problem."

"I don't think he _wants _to be fixed up."

Zara chose to ignore this comment. "So can you somehow arrange for the three of us to hang out again? Or even better, just Trunks and I?"

"I'll ask him what he thinks about you." I sighed. "Want to see a movie tomorrow or something."

"Can't." Zara said bitterly. "My parents are making me study. But I might be able to sneak out later. I'll come around later if I can, alright?"

"Sure." I grinned. "See you later."

"Bye."

I hung up the phone and switched on the computer, brining up pointless internet sites until an idea popped into my head. I brought up a search engine and typed in: "_Cures to incurable diseases found only in childhood."_

No results.

Sighing, I flipped off the computer, took a pillow and blanket off the bed and carried it into the closet. I found a wall that seemed stable enough to hold my weight, made myself a small bed and lay down, falling into the best sleep I'd had since my arrival at Capsule corp.


	8. Mixed emotions

"Pan!" Bulma demanded, marching into the kitchen in those ridiculous and seemingly pointless clacky high heels of hers, wearing a floral, thin strapped summer dress made for a woman who was obviously meant to be much younger than her. "I won't have you sitting around inside on such a beautiful day! Why don't you go out?"

"How?" I mumbled bitterly from a stool, propping my head up with one hand, elbow on the kitchen counter. "I have no where to go, no one to go with and no way to get there anyway."

"Well," She said thoughtfully. "Why don't you get changed into something nice, go next door to the Carter's place and ask their son if he wants to go down to the beach with you for a while? I'm sure his mother wouldn't mind taking you. I would myself if I could but well...you know how things are with work."

_No I don't know because I don't have a stupid job. And I'd rather wear a dress than go anywhere with Mason. _I thought angrily to myself, unable to believe Bulma would even consider such a possibility. In fact, I was unable to believe that she would demand I leave the house when I was clearly quiet content with simply sitting at the kitchen counter and staring into space.

"No, I'd rather not." Was the only reply I could come up with. Despite the fact that she'd been rude to me (or at least I thought so in my opinion), I still wanted to at least _try_ and be polite whilst I was a guest in her household.

"Well then..." Bulma thought carefully, teal brows furrowed in concentration. "I know, why don't I give you some money and a shopping list, and send you down to the grocery store on the bus?"

She had me there. Before I had left home for the summer, Videl had taken me through what she liked to call 'House Rules'. I was to always be polite while at the Briefs residence, and to do as many chores as possible for them, as they were kind enough to make room for me in their home. Although I couldn't see why these rules should be of any importance, especially since they obviously didn't have to strain to make room for me during the summer. But even so, I myself even thought it was rude to refuse to help her out when I clearly wasn't doing anything of importance myself.

"Alright." I shrugged, dropping from the school and dusting breadcrumbs off my attire of old, worn jeans with cuts in the knee and my navy blue shirt.

"I won't have my house guest sitting around and doing nothing on such a beautiful day." Bulma beamed brightly. Too brightly for my liking. "Have a good time."

"How can you have a good time grocery shopping?" I muttered under my breath once I was out the front door and trudging down to the bus stop with my hands in the pockets of my jeans, my worn sneakers scuffing the pavement.

As I was once again absorbed within my own mind, I hardly noticed that I'd walked straight past the bus stop. It only occurred to me when I accidentally banged into a solid object and fell backwards with a thud, cursing to myself as I struggled to scramble back onto my feet.

"Watch it!" A voice exclaimed as a hot and clammy hand stretched out to pull me to my feet. I allowed its owner to help me up, forcing me to meet with a pair of large, hazy brown eyes that were oddly familiar...

"Mason!" I shouted, wrenching my hand away and gawking at him in astoundment. "Holy shit....what are you doing here?"

"Well, I do live here." He joked lamely, running fingers through his messy, oily red hair. "What's your excuse?"

"I'm....staying with a friend." I mumbled, turning on my heel to march away from him. The last thing I needed was to have Mason on my heels throughout the summer holidays.

"Who?" He asked.

"A family friend." I retorted.

"Ah, the Briefs family!" He concluded triumphantly. "My parents told me that some kid was going to be staying with them for a while. I didn't know it would be you."

I was about to ask how his parents had come to know about the personal life of the Briefs family, before I remembered that Trunks had told me that the rich families in Capsule City were interrelated. This struck me as odd. I had never thought someone as primitive as Mason could be rich. Obviously, money couldn't buy him the good looks he so desperately craved.

"So where are you going?" He questioned, struggling to keep up with my firm and even pace as I hurried to escape him.

"Away from you." I shot back with a darkened glance.

"Are you going out?" He continued, choosing to ignore the death threats I was shooting at him. "To a party or something? Ooooh, can I come? I looove parties, especially ones that involve you."

"Piss off, Mason." I said through clenched teeth. "Do you want me to loose my patients with you again like on the last day of school? You don't really want to end up in a public trash can now, do you?"

"I wouldn't mind." He shrugged. "It's a small price to pay for your company."

"Look, let's get one thing straight, ok?" I demanded, slowing and whirling around to face him. "Those corny pickup lines may work on other girls, but they'll never work on me. So why don't you just piss off and try them on someone else?"

"Corny pickup lines?" Mason chortled, raising one busy eyebrow quizzically. "Oh, I haven't even begun to use them yet. Just you wait, Panny Pan, I've got loads I've saved up especially for you."

Shaking my head in dismay, and seeing now that there simply was no way I could berid myself of him, I continued to head back towards the bus stop. It became clear that Mason didn't have anything else worthwhile to do with his time than follow me (That or he had been waiting for me on the curb, somehow knowing I was going to wonder there in a daze of clouded emotions, which I strongly doubted), because he stood beside me at the bus stop, and then boarded the bus with me, all the while reciting the most irritating phrases.

"Do you have a Bandaid? Cos I just scraped my knee falling for you."

"Do you have a map? Cos Honey, I just keep gettin lost in your eyes."

"Hey baby, you must be a light switch, coz every time I see you, you turn me on!"

"Alright, that's it." I steamed as I followed Mason off the bus at the stop he'd told me was closest to the grocery store.

"Aw c'mon, I've got loads more." He smirked, causing me to it him irritably on the shoulder. "You're no fun, Panny Pan."

"Not the kind of fun you want to get out of me." I shot back. "And would you quit calling me 'Panny Pan'? It's seriously getting on my nerves!"

"What's so wrong with Panny Pan? I think it suits you." He grinned malevolently. "Hey, where's your friend? You know....the dark one? Always mourning for our generation?"

"Zara? Oh, she's feeling a bit sick." I replied, perhaps with a hint of bitterness to my voice that I hardly understood myself. "Love sick."

"Zara has a crush! Zara has a crush!" He exclaimed in a singsong voice. "She doesn't sound like the sort to fall for a guy...must be pretty good looking. Who is he anyway?"

"Trunks Briefs." I murmured distastefully.

"Well, that explains it." Mason said with an exaggerated sigh. "That guy has been in the fantasies of just about every decent girl in this area for as long as I can remember. With guys as good looking as him running around, it's almost impossible for hunks like me to find a date."

"So are you saying that I'm not a decent girl?" I said with a playful smirk. "Because I don't swoon every time I run into Trunks Briefs?"

"Pretty much. Let's face it, Panny Pan, you sure aren't what they'd call a 'decent girl'. But I think that's why guys like me find you so irresistible. People like Trunks and I get tired of girls swooning over us all the time, so we like it when we meet a girl who can give us a bit of a break from it."

As he obviously knew Capsule City ten times better than I did, he found it much easier to navigate his way around. He helped me to find everything on Bulma's list, and purchase it with the money she'd given me, all the while managing to uphold some sort of conversation. It was hard for me to believe that this was Mason Carter, a person I had always considered my enemy, who was now helping me to buy groceries as if we were a young couple. Part of me was disgusted with myself, and with him. But the other part – the more humane part – actually had to admit that I was enjoying myself in his company.

It wasn't until we got off the bus in the street just down the road from our houses (Well, his house and my temporary location), that things started to go wrong.

"You know, this morning was actually kind of fun." Mason mused as we reached the end of our street. "Well, as fun as grocery shopping can be."

"Yeah. I guess." I had to admit, no longer able to deny that I had enjoyed Mason's company. It was, after all, better than wondering the streets of an almost completely unknown city alone.

"We should do it again sometime." He continued.

"Mmm...." I mumbled, turning my attentions to the toes of my scruffy trainers, scrapping along the pavement.

"Why don't we hang out tomorrow?" He questioned as we paused out the front of Capsule corp.

"I don't have to go grocery shopping tomorrow." I reasoned.

"Nah, I didn't mean grocery shopping." He snarled, mementos of his former self flickering through the surface of his brown eyes. "I mean I want you to go out with me, Panny Pan."

All at once, I felt myself come falling back into reality with a terrifying crash. This was Mason Carter, the boy who had been chasing around the school after me since high school began. The one person I had hated ever since grade seven, and therefore the one person I was bound to loathe for the rest of my life. How could I think he'd changed into a decent enough person to consider my friend in the course of the summer holidays thus far? He may pretend to befriend me, but really underneath he was still the same, disgusting character he always was. Not only that, but when he said those few dreaded words, pictures of Trunks somehow flashed into my mind for reasons I did not yet understand. Perhaps my next decision was the result of what I feared his reaction would be if I dated another, along with my own dislike for Mason himself. But....Trunks didn't like me in that way....and I didn't like him in that way either. So obviously, my thoughts on Trunks at the same time as this news was nothing more than a mere coincidence.

"You know, you almost had me convinced that you had changed." I scathed. "But obviously, you're still the same asshole you've always been."

"So....was that no or yes?" He smirked idiotically. In amongst my building towers of rage, I was able to spare a moment to pity him, unable to believe that anyone could be that stupid.

"Hell no!" I shouted, glaring at him angrily, my dark eyes flashing like the deepest pits of hell itself. "Now, let's get one thing straight, ok? I don't like you, I'll never like you, and I don't want to see you again. Keep the hell away from me, Mason, or it will be at your expense."

I turned on my heel and stormed into the large, looming modern mansion in front of me that I still had trouble coming to terms with as my current house. I did not look back until I was inside the front foyer, and then stole a glance out the window to see him standing on the pavement in purest shock, as if he still couldn't understand what just happened, or what went wrong. This was mixed in with a sensation of ultimate depression, which was evident in his gaze as he trudged away from Capsule corp. gloomily.

I sighed. Perhaps I had been a little too hard on him, but it was his own fault for being the way he was. Videl had always told me that people were people, and that it was impossible to change them, so we just had to accept them for who they were. But I could never accept Mason. I didn't know why, really, because he hadn't done anything to harm me. He just liked me. I didn't fully understand my dislike until I arrived back in the kitchen, and images of Trunks came flashing into my mind.

There was a note from Bulma resting on the counter. I dumped her stupid plastic shopping bags on the floor with aggravation, and then crossed the room to read it.

_Dear Pan,_

_I wasn't planning on going into work until this afternoon, but something of dire importance has come up and I just couldn't leave my colleagues to solve the issue on my own. I hope you'll understand. Feel free to explore and use any facilities of the house, and I promise to be back as soon as I can._

_Love,_

_Bulma_

_PS: There's some leftovers in the fringe if you get hungry. Ask Vegeta if you need anything else. No doubt he's training in his Gravity Room._

I scrunched up the note and tossed it into the trash irritably. Although both my parents had insisted on me upholding good manners while at the Brief's residence, I couldn't help but feel that Bulma was being rude to me. What sort of hostess leaves their guest stranded in a house they hardly knew, without any real purpose or anything to do? She hadn't even left me a good excuse as to why she had to leave! I couldn't help but wonder what was the 'issue of dire importance' that had caused Bulma to leave the house so suddenly.

Miraculously, finding my way back to my bedroom proved easier than expected. I scowled at the pink walls, carpet, bedspread and the curtains at the large window, crossing the room to the window and wrenching it open, allowing the cool summer breeze to waft about my bedroom, filling it with the scent of the heated weather.

"Stupid pink." I said aloud, kicking off my trainers so that they flew across the room and smacked into the side of the giant, king sized bed. With nothing better to do, I crossed the room and turned on my computer, searching the internet for nothing in particular until I noticed the white sheet of paper next to the phone beside me on the computer desk, with Bulma's work number printed across it neatly, and Trunks' just beneath it.

I stared at the piece of paper blankly, wondering why on earth Bulma had thought it necessary to give me Trunks' work number as well as her own. I supposed, then, that it was simply because she thought that, if I was to suffer a crisis and was unable to reach her, then I could always call Trunks. Though I strongly doubted that anything horribly gruesome or terrible could happen in this pink hellhole. Whatever her reason may be, I now was in possession of Trunks Brief's work number, and I was bored.

_Why don't I just call him up? _I thought to myself. _See what he's doing. He doesn't seem to like that job of his much, so maybe by calling him, I might give him a reason for getting out of work for a while to talk to me. I wonder what he does for Bulma's company anyway...maybe I should call and ask. No...I can't do that. I shouldn't interrupt him from work. But he doesn't like his job...so in a way, I'll be doing him a favour. Hell, why not? He's probably bored, I'm definitely bored, and neither of us have anything better to do than talk to each other. Bulma wouldn't give me his number if she didn't intend for me to use it..._

As my mind had been trying to conjure up as many reasons for me to call him as possible, my fingers had automatically sprung to the phone and dialled the number on the white sheet of paper, while my other hand held the receiver to my left ear. I leant back in the chair, swinging on the back legs and waited for it to be answered.

"Capsule Corporation, Trunks Brief's office, Amanda speaking."

I let out a cry of surprise, toppling off my chair with a loud thud when I heard the voice on the other end of the phone. It wasn't the soft, deep voice I knew so well, but the high pitched voice of a woman. So Trunks had a girlfriend...and she'd been visiting him in his office. Why else would a girl answer his phone? Suddenly, I was overcome with a sense of purest loathing and dislike, as well as a sinking sensation deep in the pit of my stomach, causing my heart to rise into my throat.

"Um....hello? Are you ok?" The voice cackled over the other end of the phone. It was then that I remembered that I still had the receiver pressed against my ear.

"Yeah, I'm good." I managed to choke out from my place on the floor. "Who are you?"

"I-I'm Amanda, Trunks Brief's secretary at Capsule Corporation. Who are you?" She questioned in reply.

I felt my heart slip back into my chest, and the sinking feeling rose from my stomach. Of course! I had been so stupid! Trunks didn't have a girlfriend, he'd told me so long ago, anyway. It was only his secretary. At the sudden realization, I felt my cheeks flame red with embarrassment and shame at my idiocy, wondering why the possibility of Trunks seeing another woman had upset me even more than the possibility of myself dating another guy.

"I-I'm Pan Son." I began embarrassedly, still making no effort to get up from my place on the floor. The pink carpet was unbelievably soft.

"Oh yes! Trunks has told me all about you!" She exclaimed. "In fact, he's talked about nothing else since you arrived."

"Really?" I queried interestedly, feeling my heart rise up into my throat again.

"Yes, he seems to like you a lot." She chirped. "I'll just pop him on for you, then."

I was about to tell her not to worry, suddenly afraid that he may be busy, when the call was transferred to Trunks' line.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's Pan." I spoke clearly into the receiver upon hearing the sound of his soft, calm voice.

"Yeah, I know. What's wrong, Pan?" He said in a voice filled with concern.

"N-Nothing." I stammered awkwardly. "It's just...well....I found your number and....can I come up and visit you?"

The last fragment of the sentence came out hurriedly, my speech slurred. After I blurted it out, I immediately wished I hadn't, as his silence on the opposite end of the phone was highly unnerving. I took comfort in the breeze wafting in from the open window, and erasing the stench of my sweat, pink curtains flapping in the breeze.

"I don't see why not." He finally said. "I'm not really doing much." He lowered his voice abruptly to a whisper. "Actually, I'm really bored. So it would be great if you came up. Do you think you could find your way?"

"I'll figure it out if you give me directions." I said brightly, glad that he'd accepted my proposal.

He gave me the directions, and then hung up, leaving me with the promise of seeing him soon. My stomach bubbled with excitement. People were rarely invited to pay visit to Capsule corp., unless they were of great importance in the business scheme of things. Even when I came to visit with my parents as a child, I don't think that I was ever aloud out of the Brief's house and into the heart of Capsule corp., as much as it irritated me. The technology and excitement of it all enchanted me, and the idea of witnessing it all with Trunks Briefs wasn't an unpleasant thought either.

I scrambled up off the floor, replacing the receiver. I stared at the phone for a moment, wondering if I should call Zara and ask her if she'd like to come as well. _Of course she'd like to come. She'd take any excuse to get away from her family for a while. Plus, she thinks Trunks is hot. _That thought alone sent the impending sense of an emotion I could not name shooting down my spine. _Actually, she probably already has other plans, since it's so late in the day. And Trunks didn't invite her, so he might be a bit shocked if I brought her up to his office with me._

I exited the room swiftly, all thoughts of Zara Black evaporating from my mind.

(o)

It was harder to find my way to Trunks' office than I had thought. It was located in the heart of the building, well away from the usual laboratories and other practical work stations, but much closer to the meeting rooms, coffee lounges, and other parts of the theoretical production of the invention that made the Briefs family a success. I couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed, as the route to Trunks' office didn't pass any of the labs, thus enabling me to see the side of the production I wanted to know about. Now I could see why Trunks may find his job so terrible.

The office could be summed up in six words: large, square, modern, boring and beige. Amanda – the secretary I had spoken to over the phone – sat in the waiting room just outside his office door, at a chestnut wooden desk in front of the large symbol posted behind her on the wall that I recognized as the Capsule corp. logo. She directed me in without hesitation, not needing to ask for my identity. At first, I wondered if this was because Trunks had talked about me enough to give her a description of me. But I soon reminded myself that I was probably the only sixteen year old child she was expecting that day.

Trunks was sitting at his desk, typing frantically on his computer, wisps of lavender hair cascading down the sides of his smooth, pale face. The pinstriped brown suit he wore looked as if it didn't quite fit him correctly, and was loose even against the fine muscles of his chest. There were large bags under his sky blue eyes, which were hidden beneath his reading glasses, giving him an appearance of someone ill-at-ease in what he was doing, despite the fact that his lavender brows were furrowed in concentration as he peered at his computer screen. I noticed later that he was constantly adjusting his tie.

"Hey." He smiled when he heard his office door creak open, and looked up to meet my eyes. I couldn't help but notice that his expression had perked up the instant he saw me approach.

"Hey." I muttered, shifting uncomfortably from side to side. I felt dirty and disgruntled against him and his lavish office setting, as if I was not fit to be standing on the blood red carpet in his presence. It was hard to believe that this was the Trunks who had made pancakes for me in his boxers and vest only a few nights ago.

"Sit down." He gestured to the stiff armchair opposite his chestnut wood desk. I dropped into it warily, discovering that although it was expensive, it obviously wasn't the most comfortable chair ever invented.

Trunks took a long sip of coffee from the mug beside his telephone, then turned his attentions back to his computer without casting me a second glance. The room was silent and still except for the sounds of his hurried typing, and everything – from the leather bound books towering to the tops of the walls, arranged alphabetically and aligned on bookshelves that surrounded each space of wall within the room, to the singular, artificial pot plant in the corner – was stiff, chestnut, and matching. No variety. No colour. No nothing. Nothing but silence.

"What are you doing?" I asked, in attempt to brake the anxious silence between us.

"Writing up a report to present to the board tomorrow." Trunks uttered, without looking up. He finished typing the sentence, removed his reading glasses, and set them aside with a sigh, finally bringing his attentions back to me. "Sorry. It must be really boring for you."

"It must be worse for you." I replied. "How can you do this everyday?"

"That's the question I have to ask myself every morning." He smiled. "It's the question that causes me to loose so much sleep every night."

At the time, I didn't quite understand what he meant, and conveyed it through my odd expression. He only smiled broadly in reply, then reached over to turn off his computer.

"I can finish this later." He said with a shrug. "Why don't we go and get something to eat?"

"What about work?" I asked, worried that his lunch with me (as tempting as it sounded) might cost him his job.

"Who cares about work?" He said, perhaps sounding a little angry. "It's just a quick lunch, and then I'll come straight back. I promise, ok? Please don't start to turn out to be as persistent about my career as my mother is."

"Don't worry. I don't plan to turn into Bulma." I said through a laugh. "Fine. Let's go, then."

(o)

I couldn't deny that I enjoyed lunch with him. We left as quickly as possible, breezing through his office and out into the waiting room where Amanda sat, reading the weekly paper.

"I'm just going out for a bit, Amanda." Trunks called over his shoulder as we made our way to the elevator at the end of the room, that would eventually take us to the ground floor. "I'm taking Pan out for lunch."

_I'm taking Pan out for lunch. _It sounded indifferent, yet familiar, in a way. It struck me then that Trunks was really going to take me out. Not Zara, or any of the other girls that wanted to be in my position. But me, Pan Son, the tomboyish sixteen year old high school student and family friend whom he used to baby-sit.

We ate lunch together in a café in the heart of Capsule City, sitting together at a table positioned out on the street and opened to the public. Passers by would stare at us, Trunks in his brown pinstriped suit and I in my ripped jeans and navy shirt with a bandana tied round my head. We must have looked completely different, not only in age, but in style. But they couldn't see the deeper 't hear all the conversations we shared about the past...the things we used to do together when I was still a child, and he was my teenage baby-sitter.

I couldn't help feeling awful when lunch ended, and waiter came to collect our bill. Trunks looked so much better when he was out in the sunlight and away from work. The bags under his eyes had completely disappeared, his clothes fit him better, and the colour had returned to his skin. I could tell that he was disappointed at the prospect of returning to his office too.

My emotions must have shown in my expression, because he smiled sadly, getting up from the table in one, soft movement.

"Hey," He smiled softly, almost sadly. "I want to show you something."

I forgot that he was meant to return to work, and let him lead me down the streets of Capsule City, hand in hand. Anyone who passed us would think we were related, or even (dare I even think it) a couple. Anyone from school who saw me then would have trouble recognizing me as the same Pan Son they had known for so long. Hell, I had trouble recognizing me!

Trunks led me down streets that were familiar, and yet weren't until we came to a park. It's vast and empty fields of green grass, the tall oak trees with large, swinging branches and rustling leaves, the tiny playground, brightly coloured and shimmering in the afternoon sunlight spoke of a memory once lost, but now retrieved again.

"I used to take you here when Gohan and Videl brought you over and I baby-sat." He explained, keeping his eyes on the swing set in the playground. I watched the childish excitement dance in his eyes, reminding me of the way Elijah's eyes would shine when I told him I'd let him spar me. He pointed to the swing set. "I used to push you on that swing. The red one, because you didn't like any other colour."

He began to walk towards the playground, and I followed him quietly, struggling to keep up with his swift pace.

"You were a weird kid, Pan." He continued. "I remember...you used to run in between those trees in your little training outfit identical to Goku's. You had really short, black hair, that blew in the wind when you ran...and really rosy, chubby cheeks. You had dimples when you smiled...you still do."

I had to smile, then, and he smiled in return, nearing a park bench and sitting down on it slowly. I sat myself beside him, listening to his recounts of lost memories.

"You asked me to marry you once." He smirked at the expression on my face. "You didn't know what it was, then. And you only wanted to get married because of the pretty white dresses."

"I never want to get married." I protested.

"Why not?"

"It sounds so...girly."

He laughed his beautiful, sunny laugh. I loved that 't get enough of it...wanted to hear it again and again.

"No, I don't want to be tied down by love and become weak, like my mum." I spoke the truth.

"Videl didn't get weak because she married your dad, Pan. She chose that way of life when she had you, she wasn't turned soft my love. If anything, love makes you stronger. Just look at my dad. He wouldn't even be a Super Sayian if it wasn't for my mum."

"Really?" I asked with interest. I knew that Bulma and Vegeta were long since married, but I hadn't actually pictured them as a couple up until that point. They didn't sound like the pair of people who would be able to settle down, let alone endure each other.

"Of course, he'd never admit it. But I think my mum was what gave him strength when he was training to be Super Sayian. It wasn't just about his pride, or his desire to beat Goku, it was about impressing her so that she'd think he was worthy of her. Something like that, anyway..." Trunks shrugged. "I don't know. My dad's one strange guy."

"I can tell." I said through a laugh.

"Say," Trunks said suddenly, and I could see that his cheeks had grown a pink tinge, and not just because of the hot summer weather. "Why don't I push you on the swing? You know....like how we used to."

I nodded, slightly baffled by this sudden decision of his. But nevertheless I let him lead me to the red swing and sat down on it carefully, pushing off the ground with both feet. I felt him move behind me, hands on my back when I came back down, only causing me to swing higher. I felt the cool, summer breeze tickle my skin as a swang, higher...higher...higher.

For a while, it felt as if all my problems had been carried away with the breeze. But like a swing, everything that goes up, eventually must come down again. The relaxation between Trunks and I...the carefree attitude we both had...reminded me that my three year old cousin was sitting in a hospital bed somewhere, awaiting his incurable fate. Soon he would be dead...and there wasn't a goddamn thing I could do to stop it.

"What's wrong?" Trunks asked, noticing my expression. He had stopped pushing the swing.

"Just thinking." I muttered, letting the swing slow. All of a sudden, I was claimed by a rush of emotions, and heard myself telling him everything...feelings I hadn't even been able to put into thoughts until now.

"He's going to die. Slow and painfully....all alone, in that hospital, surrounded by illness and disease. He doesn't even understand why...maybe he doesn't even know what's wrong with him...or why he's been taken out of his home and put in hospital...away from me...away from everything he loves, and everything he holds sacred. I don't want him to die like that...so cold and empty. What's so awful about it is that I can't do a damn thing to stop it!"

I went from angry, to sad, to angry, to depressed, to confused, and then to angry again in a matter of seconds. Trunks stood behind me, waiting for the swing to slow and listening to me intently, without saying a word. I swore, I shouted, and I almost let myself cry. But he didn't care. He just stood there, taking all my abuse with good nature, and waited until I was done.

I was thankful for his silence, because it meant that I didn't have to face any questions. But I was also thankful for his presence, as he walked beside me on the journey back to Capsule corp. There was just something about him being there that helped me, somehow, and in a way I didn't understand...

It wasn't until later that night, when I was back in my pink prison and curled up in a ball inside the closet, recalling the events of the day, that I realized that without meaning to, I, Pan Son, had sunk low enough to become attracted to a member of the opposite sex.

(o)

A/N: Note that she doesn't love him at this point. It's kind of mixed feelings, because she doesn't really understand love, just so you know.


	9. Bonding

I sprawled upon the pink bedspread the following day, reading one of the many unwanted books stashed away in the bookshelf in my room. I had never been an avid reader, but this novel was a particularly gory horror story, so I had decided to make an acceptation. I was just getting up to the best part, when I heard the shouting outside in the hall.

"I can't keep doing this for you, Trunks!" Bulma cried shrilly. "The board are going to need that presentation soon, and don't expect me to cover for you again! If you can't meet due dates, then you aren't suitable to be an employee of my company."

"Well maybe I don't want to be an employee of your company!" Trunks shouted back. It was odd to hear him shout…his voice was always so soft…

"Of course you do, son. It's in your blood!" Bulma replied. "You have so much potential, and I'd hate to see it all go to waste. You used to be so good at your job. But lately I think you've just been…losing interest."

"I never had any interest in the first place." He shot back darkly.

"Yes you did. Don't you remember how you used to come and watch me work when you were a child?"

"Only because you made me."

"No I didn't."

"Don't try to tell me what I'm interested in, and what I'm not interested in, Mother."

"Oh Trunks, you did so well in the HSC! You made your grandfather and I so very proud, especially when we were privileged to offer you a place in charge of the development section of our company. Don't you understand, son? The future of Capsule corp. rests in your hands! When I'm gone, who's going to manage it if you don't? Not your sister, that's for sure. Sure, she got better grades than you. But she's too wrapped up in all that charity work she does…"

"Oh sure, so it's alright for Bra to take on a different career path and do what she wants to do. But what about me? What about what I want to do?"

"Well, what do you want to do?"

There was silence, and I sat still on the bed, not daring to breathe lest I miss a word. I could almost feel the embarrassment dwelling within Trunks through the door. I clutched my book stiffly, not making a sound…waiting for a reply.

"Nothing." He finally said, his voice emotionless, and back to it's normal level. I heard his footsteps trailing away on the tiled floor, and Bulma's heading in the opposite direction before I let myself exhale a sigh.

I couldn't help but feel it was my fault. If I hadn't come to Trunks' office the previous afternoon, then he would have been able to complete the report he was working on in time for his presentation. Now he was in danger of losing his job, and it was all because of me. Not only that, but his own mother was angry at him for not living out a dream he never had. Couldn't she see that he didn't want to own Capsule corp.? I punched a pink pillow in frustration, then got up and stormed out of my room in a rage with the intentions of finding Trunks and at least apologizing to him.

I began to take the now familiar route to his office, thinking that would be most likely place he'd be at this hour. I'd only reached the entrance to Capsule corp., and what was the end of the Briefs residence when I barged into Bulma, dressed in a tight fitting magenta suede suit and her usual pair of clacky black high heels, teal hair falling into her wrinkled face.

"Where do you think you're going?" She asked me bitterly, teal eyes still burning with rage. I wasn't sure if she was angry with me, or with her son. Either way, I was wise enough to see that I needed to ensure ultimate politeness if I was ever going to be able to speak with Trunks.

"I just need to speak with Trunks for a moment." I replied smoothly.

"Not you're not." She said fiercely, placing a pair of French manicured hands on her large hips. "You are not to come into the working part of Capsule corp. during your stay here, because it is a distraction to the workers."

"But I need to see Trunks. I have to apologize." I protested, letting my eyes fall from her gaze to her black stockings. "You see, it's my fault that he didn't have his report ready for the presentation today. I barged in on him when he was working, and then he took me out to lunch. If it wasn't for me, he would have finished it."

"Well," Bulma replied after she'd given time to let my words sink in. I couldn't tell if she was angry with me or not, and I didn't dare look up to read the expression in her face. "I expect you've learnt your lesson. I don't want you bothering Trunks, or anyone else during work hours, do you understand? Trunks is struggling to maintain his job at the moment, and it's putting a lot of stress on him, coupled with having to keep up with his training. The last thing he needs is a little girl bothering him during the day."

I lifted my head, and saw the depression and rage in my pasty face reflected in the brass buttons on Bulma's suit, and in her large, gold hoop earrings. She must of seen it too, for her face softened up a little.

"I'm sorry Pan, dear. I know this is a difficult time for you, and I don't mean to be so cruel. But it's a difficult time for Trunks too, and he's under a lot of pressure. I think it would be best if you left him alone while at work."

I merely nodded, then rounded on my heel and marched away from her, heading in no apparent direction and letting my rage push me onward. Not only was I angry that I did not have the opportunity to apologize to Trunks, but I had a feeling that it was Bulma who was putting him under stress, and not himself or me. Plus, I hated being called a 'little girl', especially when I clearly was no longer a child.

I continued walking briskly along the corridors, not going anywhere in particular until I bumped into something solid and stumbled back in surprise, blinking back from behind my fringe to see a stern figure in front of me.

"What the hell is your problem?" Vegeta demanded, snarling at me and crossing his sweaty arms in front of his black training outfit.

"It was your fault!" I shot back, forgetting the warnings I had received from my parents before arrival here. They had made me promised never to pick a fight with Vegeta.

"No it wasn't, you stupid girl! You need to watch where you're going in future!" His coal black eyes darkened from beneath thick, black eyebrows.

"Don't you dare call me a stupid girl!" I shouted, releasing my anger through my words. I wasn't particularly angry with Vegeta, but this was helping me to clear my head a little. "If you'd been watching out for me, then you wouldn't have banged into me, you asshole."

"What did you call me?" He scathed. "Go on, say that again, I dare you."

"I called you an asshole, or are you so deaf that you couldn't hear, old man?"

"Old man!? What the…?" He trailed away, allowing his trademark smirk to creep across his face. "Heh…perhaps there is a little Sayian blood left in you after all, child."

"I'm no child, you stupid tart! How dare you accuse me of not being a Sayian, when it runs through my veins as much as it runs through yours. Just because I'm only a quarter Sayian, and you're a full blooded one, doesn't mean you're any stronger than I am, jerk!"

"Then why don't you prove it to me in a battle?" He demanded. "Back in my gravity room, right now. If you're game."

"Of course I am." I said, with a brief glance down at my current attire. I didn't think my tight fitting black jeans and blood red tank top were suitable for such an occasion. "As long as you have something I can change into."

"There's some old clothes that belonged to Trunks." Vegeta said with a shrug. "If you don't mind wearing boy's clothes, little girl."

"I told you to stop calling me that! I'm no little girl, and I'm about to prove it to you."

He smirked, leading the way back into his gravity room, with me at his heels. I couldn't help but allow myself a small smirk too.

So much for my good manners… 

(o)

I gazed down at my new outfit as I emerged from the changing room outside Vegeta's gravity room. It was emerald green, tied with an orange sash, and with orange wristbands on either wrist. Vegeta had also supplied me with a pair of matching weighted training boots, which I had refused to wear since they were far too big for me, although I hoped Vegeta wouldn't think me a weakling for not wearing them. Sure enough, he was smirking again when I reentered the white tiled dome he called his gravity room.

"What?" I asked rudely.

"Those clothes were the same worn by Trunks when he was twelve." He laughed devilishly. "You really are small for your age, aren't you?"

"Pipe down, beef head." I scowled, still overwhelmed by the fact that these were the same clothes worn by Trunks at one stage. I could tell they'd belonged to him the moment I'd put them on…they smelt just like he did….a soft scent.

"How much gravity do you want?" He asked me, approaching the large consol in the center of the room.

"One hundred times earth sounds good." I said casually.

"Are you sure you can handle it?" He said jokingly, already programming the settings.

"Of course I can. I'm Goku's granddaughter." I answered stiffly. "And if I win this fight, you have to stop calling me 'little' forever."

"Unfortunately for you, that's not going to happen, granddaughter of Kakkarot. Because I'm going to win." He said proudly

"I wouldn't bet on that. But if you think it's going to make you feel better, than you can say it all you want." I grinned. "My family has been doing battle with yours for generations, and we always come out on top."

"Oh, so this is about family honor now, is it?" Vegeta laughed. "Too bad then, because it means that when I beat you, you'll have to live with letting Kakkarot down."

There was no more time to speak, as we launched into battle. I now fully understood what my parents meant when they warned me not to get on his bad side, as Vegeta was furiously strong, almost robotic, with his own unique techniques and styles that I had never encountered before. Each punch spoke of strength and experience, and each attack was fired with incredible force. Although I did put up a good fight, countering and blocking all his attacks, sneaking in a few whenever I could. Eventually, all my energy was drained from me, and I collapsed to the floor with exhaustion, becoming victim to the high gravity.

"Damn, you're good." I admitted gruelingly, panting on the white tiled floor as he landed beside me, programming the consol so that gravity returned to normal.

"Of course, child." He smirked. "I am the best."

"Oh don't flatter yourself." I said bitterly, resenting losing battle to him. It had made him far too cocky. "It was a one time thing. Next time, I'm going to defeat you, and deflate that big ego of yours while I'm at it."

"If there will be a next time. I'm not sure if I want to fight you again. You're far too easy to defeat, just like your grandfather."

"Come on, don't deny that you didn't enjoy sparring with me today." I shot back. "And not another bad word against my family, or I'll get my grandfather to come over here and kick your ass."

"I'd like to see him try." He said with a smirk, stretching his arms upwards to the sky.

"Yuk, you stink. Take a shower, will you?" I waved a hand mockfully in front of my face.

"You know." Vegeta mused. "You are unlike any other child I think I've ever met before. Nothing like my daughter."

"Thank god for that." I pulled a face at the very idea of being his relative. "Honestly, I don't know how Trunks can live with being your son."

"Ah yes, him." Vegeta spat. "He's become soft in such a time of peace, and is falling behind in his training dramatically."

"That's not his fault." I defended. "It's yours, and Bulma's. You work him like a dog, making him do things he doesn't want to do. He only does it to make you happy."

"Don't tell me that you're about to turn soft too."

"No, of course not. Just quit pestering Trunks, ok?"

"Would you be proud of a son who was lazy, and didn't know the difference between a punch and a kick?"

"No."

"Exactly."

"But Trunks is strong. He just doesn't want to be a fighter. Can't you be proud of him for what he is?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm a Sayian." He said with a tinge of pride. "And he is too. It's a disgrace to our kind. Anyway, if you're going to point the finger at anyone, it's the woman. She's the one who forces him into that job of his."

"It's your fault too." I persisted. "God, can't you just give him a brake."

"I'm afraid this is an argument neither of us can win."

"Yes it is. I just won because you didn't come up with a comeback."

"You know," He mused, changing the topic completely. "It certainly has been a while since I've fought another female Sayian. And I must admit, your father has trained you sufficiently. I wouldn't mind defeating you again sometime, girl."

"Quit calling me that!" I shouted, getting up and heading towards the door.

"Child." He muttered, just loud enough for me to hear as I left.

"Jerk." I muttered back.

"Girl."

"Asshole."

"Half-breed."

"Tart."

I think this was the day my strange and unique, father-daughter type bond with Vegeta truly began.


	10. The kiss

"Trunks looked so sexy in those skates the other week." Zara commented, removing her own on at the skating rink a few days later. "When do I get to see him again?"

"Not for a while." I replied irritably. "He's busy with work."

"Can't he get out of it somehow?" She pleaded like an idiotic little girl.

"No, he can't, because he'll end up in more trouble with his family." I reasoned. "You see-"

I was cut off abruptly when a familiar figure made presence in the skating rink. Tall and gangly, with oily skin, hazy brown eyes, a freckled face and a reddish mass of hair. Curious, Zara turned behind her to see what had caught my attention, her shoulder length deepest black hair that she'd only just streaked deep purple slapping into my face.

"Isn't that Mason Carter, from school?" She questioned, to which I nodded from behind. He was about to purchase a ticket of entry, his face solemn and lonesome. "Looks lonely."

"Maybe we should let him hang out with us." I suggested, thinking back to when he'd gone grocery shopping with me. I couldn't help but feel bad about the way I'd treated him, and still regretted it. I hadn't seen or spoken to him since.

"No way!" Zara protested. "That's Mason Carter you're talking about. He'll make summer a living hell! Don't tell me you've started going soft on me."

"I have not! I just feel sorry for him."

"That's being soft." She pointed out, a comment which I could not refute. But I refused to give in and let her have her way. She sighed, reading the expression on my face. "Fine. But don't come crying to me when he ruins your summer."

"My summer's already ruined." I replied, getting up to return my rented skates and then making my way to the entrance desk. Mason saw me approaching, and gave me a startled glance before bending his head, pretending he hadn't noticed me.

"Hey Mason." I greeted, as kindly as I could. "How's summer been?"

"I thought you weren't going to talk to me." He mumbled, keeping his head down.

"Of course I am. Don't you still have hundreds of corny pickup lines to try on me. I'm not granting it will work, but you may as well give it a shot."

"You're not mad at me anymore?" He said in bewilderment.

"How can anyone stay angry at someone so irresistible?" I said sardonically, but he misunderstood..

"I know. Can you believe I literally have to beat the ladies away with a stick? No wonder you came crawling back to me."

"Don't get too carried away." I warned. "It'll only make me pissed with you again."

"Sorry, sorry." He held up both hands in protest.

"Zara and I were about to catch a movie." I said, gesturing to her over my shoulder. "Want to come?"

"Sure, why not?" He grinned happily. "What else do I have to do?"

"Then come on, we're leaving now."

I strode along the pavement once we were outside the skating rink, with Mason scurrying at my heels and Zara sulking along behind us. To eliminate the silence between us, I started a conversation about the essence of life and human existence in the hopes that Zara might be a little more social, despite the fact that being social simply wasn't in her nature. She ignored me at first, but soon was walking in line with us, taking control of most of the conversation. And to my surprise, Mason seemed to find the topic even more interesting than Zara did. Although I was glad that Mason and Zara seemed to be getting along, I couldn't help but remember the conversations shared between Trunks and I in the same carefree, way.

"So what movie are we going to see?" I asked upon arriving at the cinema.

"Something with horror in it." Both Zara and Mason said in union, turning to smile at each other once they did so.

"Fine." I said, purchasing three tickets to the only horror film available to see with the large amount of spending money Bulma had given me.

As it was a wet and rainy day, most people had retreated to the cinema instead of the usual beach. Therefore, the lobby was packed with people of all ages, cuing and cramming to buy food and drink before their movie was due to begin. We joined the cue, and I left Zara and Mason to continue their earlier discussion from where it left off, as I sank into my own state of gloom.

I missed Trunks. I could no longer deny it. Ever since he started being more distant and drawn in by his work so that I struggled to find time to talk to him, I had found myself thinking about him. His eyes…hair…smile…laugh. Simple things he'd so, or small habits he had, and the pointless conversations we'd shared would come back to me, and I couldn't knock them away again.

_Stupid crush. How much longer until it goes away? _I thought to myself. _Hopefully soon, because I don't think I can take this any longer. Stupid Bulma, it's all her fault! If she hadn't forced Trunks into work, I wouldn't have to think about him so much because I'd actually get to see him. Oh stuff it! After the movie, I'll go and see him anyway. Who cares about stupid Bulma?_

My arrival at the front of the line broke my reverie, and I bought three large popcorns and soda with the leftover money, handing it out to my two other companions. We made our way inside the cinema, finding our seats in the back row. Naturally, it was packed with children. The younger ones threw popcorn at each other, while the older were far to involved with each other to notice the film. In fact, I was the only one who really watched it, as Mason and Zara were too worked up in their own conversation beside me. In truth, I hardly watched it either. I was thinking about something else…

When the film ended, I said a hurried goodbye to Zara and Mason, leaving them both startled.

"Don't you want to go to the beach with us?" Mason asked. "Zara says it's nice there when the rain hits the water."

"I'm sure it's utterly depressing." I replied sarcastically. "But I have to get back soon. Bulma is expecting me."

It felt strange to lie to Zara. I'd never done that before. Sure, I'd kept secrets, but when faced with admitting the truth, I did so without hesitation. It was this bond of trust that allowed her to believe me, and let me take the next bus back to Capsule corp. By this stage, the rain was so heavy that I was drenched from head to foot on my return. Not waiting to change out of my sodden jade coloured shirt and denim shorts, I took the short and memorable walk to Trunks' office, barging past Amanda without so much as a greeting.

Trunks was sitting at his desk in his white collared shirt, that looked as disheveled as usual, with black dress pants and a navy blue tie choking his neck. His matching black jacket had been tossed idly on the chair opposite his own, and he had a phone pressed between his ear and shoulder, shuffling through several documents as he spoke to whomever was on the other end.

"I'll have to call you back." He said the instant he saw me, hanging up his phone and putting it to one side. He dropped the papers in an instant, looking at my quizzically with exhausted eyes from behind his reading glasses.

"Trunks…" I breathed, unsure of how to explain myself. The door burst open behind me, and Amanda bustled into the room.

"She just barged in, sir." Amanda explained. "I couldn't stop her."

"It's alright, Amanda." Trunks smiled warmly, no longer looking directly at me. "I invited Pan to visit me this afternoon. She's a bit late, so she probably was in too much of a hurry to get here that she didn't pay me any attention. You can go now, it's ok."

Not entirely convinced, Amanda backed out of the room, and I crossed the floor, trembling and feeling the cold of the rainwater drip from the ends of my shoulder length, sodden raven black hair.

"So," He smiled, leaning back in his chair. "Why are you really here?"

"I honestly don't know." I told him truthfully. He raised one, lavender eyebrow, but said nothing in response.

"Well, since you are here, you might as well stay." He gestured to the chair. "Do you want to sit down?"

"I'm too wet." I reasoned.

He shrugged. "I don't care. Oh, and put my jacket on if you feel cold."

I did as I was told, wrapping the jacket around my shoulders and was overwhelmed by his unique scent. I pulled it closer, holding it against my frozen body. He didn't move, staring at me from across his desk, and I stared back blankly, shifting uncomfortably in the silence.

"Work good?" I asked in an attempt to make conversation.

"No. And it never has been." He sat back in his chair with a sigh, opening his mouth to blurt out things he'd hold within his own heart for far too long. "It's all my mother's fault. She pressured me so much in high school, because she knew that I was to be the future of her company. She didn't want it to fall into foreign hands after her death, so she needed an heir to continue it. I told her that Bra should do it, because Bra has always been so much more intelligent than me. But Bra wasn't good enough for her….it had to be her oldest son. I was the soul heir to he company, and I was under so much pressure just to make her proud. I made her so happy when I finally got the job here. I hated it…hated it so much. But I couldn't tell her, because I just wanted her to be proud of me. She was, of course, but I still hated it. I hated it more with every year, until I couldn't stand it anymore. It's the same with training, with my father. But I can't keep everyone happy, especially when I'm doing things that I don't want to do. God, what am I supposed to do?"

His words were filled with passion…with emotions felt but never dared spoken of, and I could tell when I looked into his eyes that he feared he'd said too much. I sat there, baffled, unsure of what to do.

"Trunks, no one should force you to do anything you don't want to." I finally came up with my reply. "You shouldn't care about Bulma and Vegeta, because it's your life and not theirs. Sure, they'll be angry at first, but they'll get over it. You should listen to your own heart, follow your own path and achieve what you want to achieve. Don't listen to them, because you're living for you."

"When did you become so smart?" He smiled softly, pushing back out of his chair and taking slow steps towards me.

"My family always told me to stand up for what I believed in, to chose and decide my own path, and to become my own person. It's just the way I grew up." I said with a shrug. "So…if you weren't working for Capsule corp., and you weren't spending every free minute you had training with Vegeta, what would you do?"

By this stage, he was standing directly above me, pale cheeks flushing scarlet with one hand resting on the back of my chair. "You'll laugh."

"I promise I'll try not to." I smiled, tilting my head upwards. He stared down at me, expression stony, but with cheeks still burning red.

"Ever since I was a kid I wanted to be a….a musician. I had lessons when I was still at school, and I really liked it."

"What did you play?" I asked, seeing nothing funny about it at all.

"Guitar." He mumbled, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"Wow, that's so cool!" I exclaimed, finding it hard to imagine that someone as soft as Trunks could play in a rock band. "You'll have to play for me sometime."

"I'm a little rusty." He replied, the red creeping out of his cheeks. "I haven't played in years. Hell, I don't even own a guitar."

"I bet you're really good." I complimented. "Trunks, you can achieve anything you want to achieve. If you want to play guitar, than go for it. Who cares what your parents say, because they can go to hell. You have to believe it's not just a dream, and that you really can do it. Otherwise, you'll never get there." I looked up into his eyes meaningfully. "I believe in you."

"God, Pan." He whispered, and I became aware that he was now stroking my hair, toying with it between his fingers. It sent shivers down my spine…an indescribable sensation…his touch was so soft…I wondered if his lips were soft too.

He came to my side, and curiosity got the better of me. I parted my lips in anticipation, and he bent his body closer towards mine, still sitting in the stiff office chair. The last thing I remembered before I touched his lips was the rain pounding on the office window, and the very essence of his soul evident in his sky blue eyes.

His lips were indeed soft…softer than his touch, his words, and his aura put together. I gasped a little, surprised that anything could feel as soft…as if his very lips had been formed from a cloud. They moved against mine, hands resting on either of my shoulders and pulling me upwards toward him, and my hands automatically came to his cheeks…so soft…like silk…his hair softer as I ran my fingers through it. It was then that I felt his tongue slide out and trace a line along my lips, trying to part them. I held them together firmly, eyes shut in pure ecstasy.

He may have been able to part my lips if we'd kissed any longer…if we weren't interrupted. I heard the door open, and I'm sure he did too, but we pretended not to notice, hoping it was no more than the wind.

"My God!" I heard someone exclaim. He pulled away from me immediately, letting me fall breathlessly back into the chair. We both turned simultaneously to see Amanda filling the doorframe, eyes wide in shock, taking in everything.

"No Amanda, it's…" He struggled to explain himself. "It's not what you think….I wasn't trying to….I mean she….she…"

She stared between us, gaze switching from one to the other. At the time, I was too young to understand what the scene may have meant to someone older. Seeing a teenage girl being passionately kissed by a man so much older than her…holding her…as if trying to prevent her from escape…

"I won't say anything, Trunks." She said sternly. "But believe me, this will get out before too long."

She shut the doors with a snap, and exited the office briskly. I listened to the sounds of her fading footsteps, keeping my eyes on Trunks who was staring back at me in profound confusion, as if trying to figure out what had just happened.

Without another word, I ran out of the office to the elevator, pressing the button hurriedly. He did not try to stop me, and I didn't look back to see what he was doing. I climbed into the elevator, relieved to find it empty, and pressed the button for the ground floor, backing into the corner and erupting in a flood of tears.

I had just experienced my first kiss, and it was with a 29 year old…a family friend. A man who was still unsure of his own identity…the man who had baby-sat me as a young child…a man who I loved as a brother, who I respected and trusted as my friend. He'd kissed me…he felt the same…he loved me. Did he? Was it love? How was I meant to know? What would my family think?

My family, I missed them so much. I wanted to go home…away from here….away from him, where I couldn't cause him anymore trouble.

What had I gotten myself into?????


	11. Resentment

"No way!" Zara gasped in shock.

"Yes way." I replied grimly, holding the phone receiver to my left ear, sitting placidly on the floor of my closet.

"I can't believe you! You little…" She trailed away, completely lost for words.

"I know." I sighed heavily. "I've been practically living in my closet for the past three days."

"Well you'll have to come out sometime. Seeing the sun will do you some good."

"I don't know about that." I grumbled. "But if you insist."

"I do insist. I'll meet you at the park in an hour."

"Fine." I muttered. "Just…promise me you won't spread it around to everyone, ok? I don't know for sure, but I think Trunks is in some sort of trouble. I don't want to make things worse."

"Have you seen him recently?"

"Not since three days ago. And I don't want to." I said. "I've been hiding out in my room, and only leaving to get food after dark. I told Bulma I'm sick. My plan is to just avoid him until it's all over…you know, with Elijah…"

"I know." She said gravely. "So, I'll see you soon."

"Yeah." I smiled. "Soon."

I hung up, and scrambled out of the closet, replacing the receiver and taking a spare sheet of paper from the desk draw. Seizing a pen, I hurriedly scribbled a note to Bulma:

_Bulma,_

_I'm feeling a lot better, so I've gone out to get some fresh air. I'll be back later._

_Pan_

I left it sitting on the desk, in case she should come in and find me missing. I then changed out of my pyjamas and into a pair of white board shorts and a bright yellow surfing shirt, tying a yellow bandana around my head. I stuffed my feet into my worn thongs, taking my wallet filled with a fresh set of spending money, and the house key Bulma had given me upon arrival. I then left the house as quickly as possible, and hurried down the pavement in the direction of the park.

I don't know why I told Zara about Trunks three days after the incident. Those days were spent, as I had told her, hiding in my room and spending most of the time sitting in my closet, thinking about Trunks, and about Elijah. I had not felt up to facing anyone until today, and because I had no one else to talk to, and also because I trusted her so much, I had called Zara. But, much to my dismay, this bond of trust was almost broken when I arrived at the park and saw Zara waiting for me on the bench beside the playground, with Mason at her side.

"What's he doing here?" I scowled.

"I was invited, Panny Pan." Mason beamed brightly. Too brightly for my taste.

"By who?"

"By me." Zara retorted. "Mason's here to help you sort out your love problem."

"What!?" I gawked, staring between them in shock. "Zara, you told him?"

"Well, he was going to find out soon, anyway." She mumbled, her cheeks reddening, for once changing her naturally ultra pale complexion.

"Zara Black, this is the lowliest thing you've ever done, including the time you egged my dad's car back in grade seven before you knew he was my dad. I can't believe you, you-"

"Alright, let's not get too carried away. She was only trying to help." Mason reasoned. "Besides, she came to the right guy."

"Oh really?" I asked sarcastically, quirking one, sleek black eyebrow. "How so?"

"I'm an expert on love." He said proudly, buffing out his chest and causing Zara to giggle. I could hardly believe it. Zara? Giggle? God, what was happening to the world? "I know everything. From high school relationships, to crushes, to marriage, to divorce. I've seen it all. So you can ask me anything."

"I'm not in love, Mason." I frowned. "It was a one time thing. And what makes you say you know all this anyway?"

"I have one mother, one father, one step-mother, one step-father, one teenage sister, one teenage brother, one younger step-sister, and one younger brother. Therefore, I've witness a relationship stage from every angle, from my parents divorce to my little step-sister's first crush." He grinned. "How did you think I became such a ladies magnet? These things don't happen overnight."

"Well, I don't need your help." I reasoned. "I'm just going to hide from him until I can go home."

"That could be years away!" Mason exclaimed.

"No, not really. According to the doctors, I should only be stuck here until the end of the summer. Unless we're lucky….then he might have more time." I said sadly, turning away so they wouldn't see the tears gathering in the corners of my eyes.

"I'm sorry, Pan." Zara murmured sometime later.

"Yeah." Mason added. "Sorry."

The park behind them was bustling with life. It was a sunny day, and parents had brought their young children down to the park for the day. Picnic baskets had been placed under trees, and parents and grandparents sprawled across rugs, lazing about and enjoying the afternoon sunshine, while their children and grandchildren ran about between the trees and played together in the playground, shouting and laughing without a care in the world.

I wished I could be that age again. Elijah's age. You were so naïve, didn't understand, didn't care, and didn't have any worries. Your biggest concern was falling over and grazing your knee, but then all you had to do was get up again, dry your tears and play some more. It was almost like life, in a way. Sometimes it would knock you down, and if you stayed down and cried forever in the dirt, then you would never be able to get up and play again. You had to dry your tears…had to move on…had to live.

I was still stuck down in the dirt, as much as I would try to deny it. And I couldn't get up…wouldn't be able to on my own. I needed someone to help me, someone to hold my hand and pick me up off the ground. Someone to bandage the graze on my knee and hold me until they heeled, and then watch me play until they were sure that I would be able to look after myself.

This park was my park. Our park. The park Trunks took me to as a child. A place that held so many memories for me…some painful now, when I looked back on them, after all that had happened. It said too much, spoke of too many things I'd rather forget. It was then that I decided that I could never return to this park again.

"Listen, I have to go." I said after enduring it for a solid hour. "Bulma will be wondering where I am."

"Remember, I'm just a phone call away if you need me." Zara said comfortingly.

"Yeah. Me too." Mason added.

"Thanks, but I'll be fine." I waved, then darted out of the park as fast as I possibly could.

"Just talk to the guy!" I heard Mason shout from behind me. "Otherwise, you'll never work things out."

I ignored him, and didn't stop running until I'd arrived back at Capsule corp. Bulma was in the front entrance when I opened the door, dressed in a short beige skirt and black shirt, bringing an unusual contrast to her normally bland skin. She was speaking to someone on the phone, and I was about to slip past her when she held out a hand to stop me.

"Yes….yes, I know…..no, not at all. She's been a pleasure….no, she doesn't know…..do you think so?….alright….alright, you know best…..are you sure that there's…..no?….but surely they…..oh….oh, ok…..well, send everyone my love….yes, I'll tell her you called…..ok….bye, dear."

She hung up, and turned to face me with a watery smile. I returned it shortly, overloaded with curiosity by her one side of the conversation.

"Who was that?" I eventually had to ask.

"Oh, no one really. It doesn't concern you anyway." She smiled again. A smile that made my wary. "How are you? I've hardly seen you these past three days."

"Did you see the note?" I asked.

She nodded. "Very thoughtful of you. But next time you go out, I'd like it if you'd tell me in person first, ok?"

"I'll try to remember." I said.

"I've made a big dinner, with a chicken rissole that has your name on it."

"No thanks, I'm not hungry."

"Don't tell me you've been out there eating junk food all day, Pan? I won't have you spend the money I give you on bad food. Your grandma Chi-Chi would hate me if I did."

"No, I haven't been eating junk food." I said truthfully. I really hadn't been eating at all, which was highly unusual for someone with Sayian blood.

"Then why don't you come to dinner? It would mean a lot to me if you did." Bulma almost pleaded.

I couldn't get out of it. I obviously didn't look sick to her anymore, and in truth, I was a little hungry. So I allowed her to lead me into the dining room, and sit me in a chair directly opposite Trunks. He was still dressed from work, as usual, in that awful brown pinstripe suit, with his head bent and wisps of lavender hair falling into his face as he busied himself with cutting through his meal. He didn't look at me.

"So," Said Bulma once she'd finished dishing up the chicken rissole to everyone at the table. It was times like these that I found myself missing Videl and Chi-Chi's cooking sorely. "How was work today, Trunks?"

"Same as ever." He said through a mouthful of food, still insisting on keeping his eyes down. There was something dark in the way he spoke….not soft, but sharp and cruel…not like him at all.

"Anything interesting happen?"

"No." He muttered bitterly. "Oh, I fired Amanda."

"Why? She's always been such a lovely girl!" Bulma cried. Trunks ignored her, bringing his face closer to his plate, which only added to Bulma's annoyance. "Oh Trunks, lift your head up will you? I can't see your beautiful eyes."

"Look Mum, just leave me alone, ok?" He shot to her, eyeing her darkly.

"Bitter, bitter, bitter." Bulma shook her head in dismay, stabbing her food with her fork. "I swear, you'd think he was going through puberty again. He's been like this these past few days. Do you have any idea what's gotten into him, Pan?"

I shook my head violently, and took a long sip of water to hide the red tinge in my cheeks. Bulma shrugged, and decided to try pleasant conversation with Vegeta instead.

"How's the training going, dear?"

"Don't you 'dear' me, woman. I'm no animal." He spat back, spraying food across the table.

"Well you certainly do act like it most of the time." She sighed. "Anyway, I asked you how the training was going."

"Fine." He said shortly. "Now can you shut up? Some of us are trying to eat!"

"Can you believe that it's like this every dinnertime?" She said to me. "Honestly, you can't get a decent conversation out of these two. It was the same when Bra was still living with us…back before she was married, of course. Dinner conversation always ended up revolving around slave labor in one way or another."

Vegeta grunted in annoyance, stuffed a pile of food onto his plate, picked it up and stalked off. Bulma sighed, holding a hand to her forehead and massaging her temple. I smiled, and checked to see if Trunks was smiling too. He was looking directly at me, but lowered his gaze the second I turned my head. He hadn't smiled at all.

"Can you pass the ketchup, Pan-Chan?" He asked me dully, conveying no emotion at all.

I passed him the ketchup bottle with a shaky hand, nearly dropping it in Bulma's homemade salad. There was no kind smile accompanying his words, no usual sly wink, not even a word of thanks when he received the bottle. In fact, I was sure he wouldn't have even spoken to me if he hadn't wanted the ketchup.

And he'd gone back to calling me Pan-Chan.


	12. Bra's visit

A/N: The character of Bra in this story is based on the Bra in my other story 'Truth be Told' as this is the third part of my trilogy, continuing on from where the last story left off. If you want to understand why Bra is the way she is in this story, you'll have to read the other two stories that go with this one.

(o)

I awoke early the next morning, showered, changed into a mud brown shirt and half-length denim pants with a brown bandana wrapped around my wet raven hair, then made my way to the kitchen for breakfast. As I neared the end of the wall that led to the kitchen, I heard a squeal of delight issuing from behind a nearby door, and nearly fell backwards in surprise.

"Bra is coming to visit us, and she has some exciting news!" Bulma cried, bursting out from a door to my right after speaking to her daughter on the phone. "She's pregnant, and for the first time! Oh, I can't believe it! She and Uub are going to have a baby! And I'll finally get to be a grandma!"

"Congratulations." I said with a smile, as Bulma pulled me into a rib crushing hug.

"Oh this is so exciting!" She exclaimed, doing a sort of dance on the spot. "We'll have to do something to celebrate. Why don't we have a barbeque lunch? Just the family, and you of course, Pan dear. My gosh, it's all happening so suddenly!"

She danced into the kitchen, humming a tune to herself. I followed her gingerly, taking my usual place on a kitchen stool and smiling kindly while she prepared breakfast for me and herself. After we'd eaten, she left for the shops, and returned with platters of food, which she forced me into preparing with her, taking up most of the morning. As she worked, Bulma told me more about her daughter.

"Bra owns an apartment on the other side of Capsule City. We don't see much of her, since she's always been so private, and she and her husband do a lot of charity work, so they're often away from home. She's a forensic scientist as well, and works very diligently at her job. I can seriously see her as a model, she's incredibly beautiful for 28, with a lovely figure, manner, and expression. She and Uub lead a busy lifestyle, and I always thought they wouldn't want to have a child as it would disrupt the way they live. But I'm so happy they've decided to! She didn't tell me much over the phone, and I can't wait to hear all she has to say."

(o)

Bra arrived at Capsule corp. around midday. She was a younger version of her mother, and must have looked like Bulma did at one stage, with glossy, shimmering teal hair cut at chest length, and allowed to flow freely over her shoulders. She had her mother's teal eyes, and her mother's slim, elegant feminine figure with the acceptation of the bulk in her stomach where her baby was. But unlike Bulma, she dressed simply in baggy jeans and a black shirt with 'Fight the System' printed across the front in white letters – the sort of shirt Zara would envy.

"Oh my goodness!" Bulma cried, enveloping her daughter in a tight embrace the minute the front door was opened. "Bra, darling, how are you? You look so beautiful, even when pregnant! God, I can't believe you're pregnant!"

"Lovely to see you too, Mother dearest." She said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. She had an unusually deep voice for a woman, and a cruel, wicked smile very similar to her father's.

Bulma allowed Bra to struggle free and move into the entrance hall. I smiled, but she hardly paid me any attention, watching as her mother then stepped forward to embrace her young husband.

"Congratulations, Uub." Bulma exclaimed, hugging the young man tightly. "Vegeta and I are so proud of you!"

"Thank you, Bulma." He said shyly. She moved away so that I could get a clearer view of him, and saw that he was lanky and meek, with a neatly trimmed black Mohawk and brown eyes that seemed to stand out against his dark skin, and the white jacket he wore, covering a black tank top and accompanied with matching baggy black pants.

"Come through into the backyard. We were planning on having a barbeque lunch, while we talk about the new baby. How far along are you? I can already see a bulk, so it mustn't be that long!"

"Five and a half months." Bra answered promptly.

"When did you find out?" Bulma asked, leading the way down towards the kitchen.

"About two months ago." Bra said with a shrug.

"Two months ago!?" Bulma shouted, rounding on her daughter swiftly. "Why didn't you tell me when you found out?"

"Because I knew this is what you'd do." She said, nodding to the assortment of prepared foods resting in the kitchen. "And I obviously didn't want to suffer through unwanted attention, so we decided to keep it hidden from you for as long as possible."

"I bet you told Uub's mother." Bulma scowled, opening the door from the kitchen that led into the backyard.

"Naturally." Bra said with a wicked smile. "But only because I knew she didn't plan on sweeping me up into her arms and parading about the room like an idiot before prancing next door to tell the neighbors."

"I don't act like that." Bulma defended.

"Really, woman, I've grown up with you, and I know your natural behavior as well as you know mine." She turned to me for the first time that day, smirking cruelly. "I bet she was singing and dancing all morning, wasn't she."

"Yeah." I said truthfully. "Yeah, she was."

Bulma chose to ignore me. I grinned, liking Bra already.

"I'll just go and see if I can find Vegeta and Trunks." Bulma said brightly. "Just make yourself at home."

"Um….this is partly my home anyway." Bra retorted. "Or at least it was for the first nineteen years of my life."

Bulma had already disappeared through the opposite kitchen door, and thankfully didn't hear this comment.

"Mothers." Bra shook her head in dismay, dropping into one of the outdoor chairs surrounding the matching table on the Briefs' back porch. She turned to me, smiling once more. "Oh hello, by the way. I haven't seen you since you were twelve years old. Look at you now, you're practically a woman. But obviously still have the same personality traits. I can see Goten written all over you. How are you?"

"Good." I lied, my voice simple and meek. I sank into the chair opposite her, resting my head in elbows on the table.

"Still as tomboyish as ever." She said, gesturing to my clothes. "Style suits you, in a way."

"Thanks." I smiled politely.

"Like high school?"

"Yeah." I lied.

"Oh we've all been there." She said as Uub sat himself in the chair beside her. She had obviously sensed the sarcasm in my voice when I answered her last question. "It was only the last two years I really liked. Back then I was officially classified as 'The Nerd'. Because I skipped a grade back in year eight, and was moved up into the same year as Trunks, I never really made friends until he came along." She hit her husband playfully on the arm. "After that, everything went uphill."

"So you're saying I need to fall in love before high school can get better?"

"Basically." She replied. I couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or not. "Oh trust me, kid. Someday you'll look back on high school and realize that it was the best six years of your life, no matter if you got teased, bullied, or worshiped by peers and teachers alike. You'll never get the opportunity to do it again, so you may as well enjoy it."

"They're the years of youth." Uub added shyly. "After you leave, you start feeling really old."

"Well he did anyway." Bra smirked. "But he's still unaware of the infinity of time."

"Huh?" I wondered, but before she could reply, Bulma could be heard speaking with Vegeta on her return to the kitchen.

"Let's make a prediction, shall we?" Bra joked. "Who here agrees with me in saying that the first question Bulma asks me about the baby is if I know if it's a boy or a girl?"

I raised my hand, and Bra laughed. I wasn't sure if she was laughing with me, or at me, so I lowered my hand and kept my mouth shut tightly.

"Sorry Trunks isn't here. But he was tied up in a meeting." Bulma explained, and I felt my heart sink into the pit of my stomach, though I supposed I should be relieved that I had managed to escape another meal of awkward sullenness with him yet again.

"I'll just dish up the food." Bulma said as Vegeta sat down gingerly at the round table between Bra and I. "Back in a moment."

"Afternoon." She grinned, turning her attentions to her father. Vegeta merely grunted. "No need to be grumpy with me. It's not my fault she dragged you out here."

"Yes it is." He grumbled. "Now she wants me to congratulate you both, and buy you a gift…those funny little twigs that get in your way when you're trying to fight…you know…"

"Flowers?" Uub asked quietly.

"Yes. Them."

"Oh don't worry. I don't believe in gifts made for the soul purpose of ornamental decoration." Bra joked. "Just bring a couple of sweatbands to the baby shower and I'll be pleased that you made the effort."

Vegeta was right. Bra was nothing like me in any way, yet I couldn't help but to like her. There was a certain air about her…as if she was made up of a mixture of both Trunks and Vegeta, blended together to create her own unique personality trait. She seemed to be the sort of person who could easily get on your nerves, but who you ended up liking and befriending anyway.

Bulma returned with the food and, as Bra had expected, immediately began to question about the baby.

"So do you know if it's a boy or a girl?" She asked.

"No, we've decided we want to be surprised." Bra said, winking at me from across the table. "Honestly we don't care, as long as it doesn't end up having eight arms and blue skin I'll be happy."

"I still can't believe you didn't tell me straight away." Bulma sulked. "I'm still very offended, you know."

"Oh please. Did you tell your mother the day you became pregnant with Trunks?"

"No." Bulma admitted. "But circumstances were very different. I wasn't married at the time, for one thing. And I wasn't expecting to have a child."

"Yes, well I wasn't expecting a child either. Perhaps I may be married, but I'm still entitled to my own privacy from you."

"Yes, but this is my grandchild and I want to be as involved as possible from now on." Bulma commented, placing a hand on her daughter's swollen stomach.

"Lord, it's as if my stomach has become everyone's public property." Bra muttered. "Tell me Vegeta, do I have a big sign on my stomach saying 'Rub me to find the meaning of life'? Mum isn't the first person to try and feel the baby today."

"Of course you don't." Vegeta scowled, irritated for being interrupted from his steak.

"So what will you name the baby if it's a girl?" Bulma asked.

"Well, nothing to do with underwear, for starters." Bra began, causing me to snort into my plate. "I don't know, we aren't really picking names just yet."

"Then what are you deciding on? Surely, you're thinking of moving house? You can't raise a child in that little shoebox you call a home."

"Yes we can, and we will. Uub was raised in a hovel in a village. And if it's good enough for the father, then it's good enough for the child. In fact, more than 46 of the world's population are born and bread in areas as small as our apartment."

"Oh don't start getting all technical with us again, Bra." Bulma frowned. "Can we please change the subject back to my grandchild?"

"Oh yes, would you like to know what sort of milk we plan to use once the child is ready to drink from a bottle? Or what brand of nappies we plan to use?" Bra smirked. "Oh the variety of conversational topics!"

I burst into a hysterical fit of laughter, no longer able to contain myself. Both Bra and Uub joined me, yet Vegeta scowled in irritation and Bulma looked slightly put-out.

"You know, Pan has been staying in your old room, Bra." Bulma commented, deciding now was the time to change the subject. "It's been completely redone from what it used to be."

"Oh really?" Bra said interestedly. "I'd like to see it, if you wouldn't mind showing me. I haven't set foot in my old bedroom since I was seventeen."

I nodded and stood, leading her towards the back kitchen door. In doing so, Bra managed to knock over her own chair and the bottle of wine Bulma had brought out for the adults, which had been balancing dangerously on the edge of the table.

"Oops, clumsy me with my big stomach." Bra said mockfully, holding a hand over her mouth.

"Gee, child, what do you think you're doing, yelling and rushing around like that?" He yelled, while rushing around.

"I'm just trying to follow in the example provided by my dear old dad." She said jokingly, causing everyone other than Vegeta to double over laughing. "Come on, Pan. Let's see that room."

(o)

"You know," She told me, allowing me to lead her up a flight of stairs in the direction of the room. "I haven't been down this corridor in ages. When I turned seventeen, Uub moved into Capsule corp. with us. We didn't move out until he proposed, and until then we had to stay in separate bedrooms on Vegeta's orders. But I moved bedrooms so I could be next to his anyway."

"Oh." I mumbled, unsure of what else to say.

"Don't you find it ironic that Vegeta still calls me a child, even when I'm about to have a child of my own?"

"He calls me that, too." I replied. "But I just call him a tart."

"I'm sure he likes you, then." Bra chuckled. "He loves women with attitude. I don't think he would have married my mother if she wasn't able to beat him in an argument."

We reached the door to the bedroom, and I wrenched it open, allowing her to step inside.

"Urgh, she's turned it all pink!" I heard her exclaim, causing me to laugh.

"I pity you for having to dwell in here." She said sympathetically, darting about the rooms. "It's nothing like how I remember. I had it all done up nicely when it was my room, back when I was your age. The only thing that's really the same is the furniture, which she's painted. And the style and shape, of course. Oh, she's still kept some of my old books! Not all, but she's remembered my favorites."

"They're yours?" I questioned, sitting myself on the bed. "I finished reading one the other day."

I gestured to the book, still sitting on my beside table and she beamed. "Good one, isn't it? Really gory. I love the part where she finally dies. So sudden and suspenseful….the writer is so talented."

"Yeah, I know. I was reading it in the closet at night." I smiled up at her. "It was really freaky."

"What were you doing in the closet?" She said bemusedly.

"It's the only place in the whole room which isn't pink, including the bathroom."

"Oh. I see." Bra chuckled. "Well, let's get out of this pink hellhole, then."

"That's what I call it." I said, jumping off the bed and following her into the backyard again cheerfully.

(o)

Bra and I had more in common than I expected. She was very intelligent, and had an opinion for almost every topic imaginable, which she presented by means of sardonic humor, always finding a way to make me laugh. We spent the rest of her visit sitting on the back lawn, discussing everything from fighting, to slave labor, to wrestling, to feminism. The conversation only really began to go downhill when we began to talk about memories.

"I remember the last time I saw you before the double wedding with Goten and Marron, Uub and I. Bulma was having one of her barbeques, just before you were set to go into high school. I remember kissing Uub, and Marron kissing Goten, and you telling us it was disgusting. You were sitting right there on the grass, playing with Trunks."

Once again, my heart had sunk back into my stomach. For a while, I had been able to enjoy Bra's company without worrying about either Elijah or Trunks. I knew it was too good to last.

"Something wrong?" She asked, seeing the darkened expression on my face.

"Trunks…" I began, subconsciously picking at strands of grass. "Trunks and I are having some issues…"

"What kind of issues?"

I found myself telling her everything. Everything from the moment I had arrived at Capsule corp., to the present, including all thoughts and feelings about Trunks Briefs, her brother, senior by one year, and obviously someone she held very close. As I spoke, I felt tears swelling in the corners of my eyes, and once or twice had to lift a hand to wipe a tear away.

"Shit, kid, I had no idea!" Bra cried once I had finished.

"No one does, except for you, Zara, and Mason." I reasoned. "Bra, I'm so confused. You have to tell me what to do!"

"Well, the only advice I can give you is to talk to him." Bra said thoughtfully. "Coming from a younger sister's point of view, I can tell you that my brother is a reasonable kind of guy, who lives for the soul purpose of living up to the satisfaction of others. He's not jealous, and his one ambition in life is to make others happy. In other words, he's the most unselfish person I know. If you ask him to talk about it with you, I'm sure he'll hear you out. Just talk about it, and sort things out together."

Time passed, and soon the discussion began to revolve around school, and the many amusing stories Bra had to tell about her teenage years, and Trunks'. Soon enough, the afternoon sun began to fade, and the cool dusk claimed the sky.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Bra commented, staring gleefully up into the sky. "See, this is why I'm so involved in the environment and charity programs. To preserve our world, and make it a better place."

"Hmm…" I replied absentmindedly, staring drearily into space.

"Oh Pan!" Bulma cried shrilly. "Could you do me a favor, darling?"

I shuddered at the name she gave me, but stood and dusted my jeans before making me way to the back veranda with Bra at my side. Bulma smiled her wide, false smile which I did not attempt to return.

"Could you please go into the kitchen and bring out a bottle of something for us all to drink?" She asked politely. I scowled, resenting the task, but made no effort to refuse it and headed into the house. I took my time just to irritate her, but it seemed she hardly had noticed my long absence, for she seemed to be involved in deep conversation. I was about to open the door and interrupt when I heard my name mentioned, and paused to listen through the door.

"So how's Pan coping with it all?" I heard Bra ask.

"I don't know really." Bulma answered thoughtfully. "She's a very quiet child…sort of secluded. She likes to keep to herself, and spends a lot of time in her room. When she isn't alone or out with these friends of hers who she's never introduced to me, she's tagging along with Trunks. She seems to have taken a real shine to him."

"If I remember correctly, she always got on well with Trunks." Uub added meekly. "It doesn't really surprise me that she'd want to be around the most familiar face."

"Yes…well…she's never been this secluded before. Always such an outgoing little thing." Bulma commented. "I think the whole event with Elijah has really gotten to her, poor thing. That's why I didn't want to tell her when her father called the other day."

"Gohan called?" Bra said interestedly. "What did he say?"

"Well, it seems that Elijah has gotten worse." Bulma replied gravely. "The doctors are doing all they can, but nothing seems to be working for him. According to Gohan, they're not entirely sure, but they doubt he has much time left. In fact, they don't even think he'll survive the summer. Pan won't be stuck with us for too long, it seems."

I turned on my heel, leaving the bottle I'd brought with me beside the back door, and sprinted upstairs to my room, retreating to the safety of my closet. I'd heard more than enough.

It was funny, I thought long after Bra and Uub had departed and I had retired to bed, that both Bra and Mason should offer me the same advice.


	13. Revolutions

I would have slept in well past midday if the phone hadn't rung and woken me from my deep and peaceful sleep, sprawled out across my disgusting pink bed almost a week after Bra's visit. I scrambled to my feet, and stumbled across the room to retrieve the receiver from my desk.

"What?" I muttered groggily upon answering the call.

"Gee, you don't sound so good, Pan." Zara's voice replied from the other end. "Are you feeling alright this morning?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I lied, still having not recovered from the shock of last week's news. I froze, mid conversation, realizing that this was the second time I had lied to Zara throughout the course of my entire life. But I honestly didn't feel like discussing Elijah with anyone at the time…not even my best friend, and the one person I had never told a lie to until I had arrived at the Brief's home. "Just a little tired."

"Sorry if I woke you up." She continued, obviously having not noticed the hesitance in my voice. "But I really need to talk to you. Listen, I can't go out today because I have to be dragged along to some boring old country club with my mother. But I asked my parents, and they both agreed to let me have a friend come to dinner tonight."

I could almost feel my whole face brighten instantly. I had always wanted to visit Zara, but she seemed to think that her house was somewhere no one should go unless it was perfectly necessary. From the many stories she'd told me in the past about her family, I had to agree with her. But even so I had always been intrigued to find out what lay beyond the large shell of her parents giant mansion. All at once, my troubles seemed to wash out through the open bedroom window when I thought of what the afternoon would hold for me. But after I recovered from this, I reminded myself that Zara would only ask me to her house as a last resort when she couldn't find any other time to meet with me, which meant that she was desperate to talk.

"So what's so important that you need to invite me over to tell me anyway?" I asked quizzically.

"Not over the phone." Zara giggled, causing me to shudder. I honestly couldn't understand what had gotten into her all of a sudden. She was almost acting like someone…normal. "I'll tell you when you get to my place. We always eat at six sharp, so make sure that you're there in time, ok?"

"Whatever." I mumbled, and hung up before she could say another word. Suddenly overcome with a sense of exhaustion, I stumbled back across the room and dropped onto my bed once more.

I hadn't done anything particularly exhausting recently, and had spent most of my time alone in my room reading one of Bra's old books, sleeping in both the closet and on my bed, and using the computer. The rest of the time was spent training with Vegeta. I was beginning to love these training sessions, as it gave me time to take my mind off things when I was too preoccupied with fighting, or with continuously shouting insults at my sparring partner. I didn't have time to think about Elijah, or about Trunks, because I was far too busy doing something I loved. This was how I came to understand why Trunks had suddenly become so immersed with his work. He didn't want to have to think about me.

My life now seemed to be completely without order or any routine. I ate, slept and showered and odd hours, and I found myself sleeping more often than I used to, most likely because I was worn out from the intense training sessions with Vegeta. It was good, I decided that afternoon, to work my way back into some sort of ordered lifestyle. It reminded me of the ways things were before…before summer…before any of this had to happen…

(o)

A storm was brewing in the east when it came time for me to make my way to Zara's house. I could see the clouds from my bedroom window, dark and murky, lurking over the purest blue sky that usually shrouded the ocean. This was good for two things. It made Bulma find herself obliged to offer me a lift in her car so that I wouldn't need to take public transport, and it gave us something to talk about during the trip.

"Horrible whether we've been having recently."

"Yeah."

"The storm should be here before night sets in properly. I hope I've remembered to take in the laundry. I must check when I get home."

"Hmm…"

"Is the whether this bad in your part of the world?"

"Sometimes it's worse."

"Oh really? What does your family do when there's a storm."

"Well, my parents just stay inside. But I usually just ignore it and go out and play with…Elijah."

"Hmm…well you should be careful. You don't want to get struck by lighting and end up in hospital, do you?"

"Hmm…"

Eventually, we pulled up in front of the giant white mansion, surrounded with a large, barred gold gate and thick white wall that hid the sweeping garden and the base of the house from view. The only visible part of the house was the top story (the fourth, as Zara had told me), and several palm tress that just prodded over the surface of the wall.

"I won't go in with you, dear." Bulma informed me, leaning past me to open my door. "But I'll be back to pick you up at about nine. Is that alright with you?"

"Yeah." I smiled politely. "Thanks, Bulma."

I dropped out of the car and onto the pavement, slamming the door shut behind me and waiting on the curb as Bulma sped away into the distance. Already, I could feel a light sprinkle of rainwater trickle down onto the back of my hand, and hurried to the intercom attached to the side of the wall beside the gate, and held down the button, speaking into it clearly.

"Hey, it's Pan Son. Zara's friend. I was invited here to dinner."

"One moment please, Miss Son." A male voice cackled in reply, and the gates swung back automatically to reveal the elaborate garden that lay beyond.

Although I had already seen the garden once, it still amazed me that so much space could belong to one family. It was a true island paradise, with tall palm trees, small shrubs and water features littering the large grounds. A long drive ran up to the main house, where a large fountain stood in the centre of a round-a-bout, spilling water from the mouth of a fish at the top.

I followed the drive to the water fountain, marvelling at the house that loomed ahead of me. Even in the dimly lit twilight, it managed to look as spectacular as ever, with brilliant white walls and large, glass windows that opened onto tiny balconies that were home to neatly trimmed hedges, flower boxes and beach chairs on the third and fourth levels of the house. The ground floor was surrounded by a terrace, which was covered with a roof held by marble pillars. The windows on the lower two stories were, although smaller than the others, immaculate and well-kept.

Zara was waiting for me on the front stoop, dressed in black dress pants and a plain black, velvet shirt. Her raven black hair, recently streaked with purple, had been left to fall over her unusually pale face, although her dark eyes remained as bright as her welcoming smile.

"Thank god you're here." She grinned, leading the way onto the terrace, her black boots clicking on the white tiled floor. "I desperately need to talk with you."

"Don't tell me you're planning to commit suicide again." I said sardonically.

"No, not this time." She winked, fingering the talisman she wore around her neck on a silver chain. "I'll tell you as soon as we finish dinner. Oh, and beware my mother. No doubt she'll bombard you with personal questions."

I laughed, choosing to take her warning as a joke. But I was soon to find out that I she had been telling the honest truth. When Mrs White greeted us in the front room of her house (what I later came to know as the lobby), I discovered that she was nothing like her daughter. She was an eloquent, middle-aged woman with a perfect feminine figure, clad in a pastel pink dress suit, beige stockings and high heeled working shoes, although I had the impression that she did not work at all. Her dull blonde hair was cut and bobbed where it ended just bellow her ears. Beyond the curtain of hair, I could see large pearl stud earrings in each ear, that matched her necklace, bracelet and the rings she wore perfectly – with the acceptation of her wedding and engagement rings, which were plain gold bands, one which was topped with a large diamond. On first impression, none would have thought that Mrs White was related to Zara at all.

"Welcome to our humble home, Pan, dear." Mrs White beamed, her lips wet with pink lipstick. When she smiled, I noticed, large dimples formed in the corners of her mouth, changing the shape of her wrinkled, powdered cheeks. I then discovered where Zara had inherited her natural pale complexion from, although Mrs White took a great deal of care to cover it with layers of makeup, unlike her daughter. "I've heard so much about you from Madeline Rose."

She stepped forward and enveloped me in a cold embrace. Her hold on me was surprisingly tight, and I struggled to wriggle free until she released her hold on me. I could hear Zara attempting to stifle a laugh behind me, and shot her a dark look over her mother's shoulder.

"Dinner is about to be served." Mrs White continued, her honey suckle coloured eyes smiling a false smile from behind dark eyelids. "Madeline Rose, show your guest to the bathroom so she can wash up before her meal."

The moment Mrs White had departed, Zara burst into a hysterical fit of laughter, her cheeks turning a bright red. I scowled, grasping her hand in an attempt to help her to stabilize herself, and saw that tears of laughter were spilling from her eyes. The elderly doorman (the one who had spoken with me over the intercom) was shooting us both menacing glances from his post behind a chestnut desk at the door.

"What's your problem?" I frowned once she'd regained her composure.

"My mum, that's the problem." She laughed. "She already hates you."

"No she doesn't." I defended, slightly taken aback. "Well…she didn't act like it."

"That's because she was trying to be polite." She reasoned. "Trust me, Pan. I've seen my mother greet millions of people in this room before, and I can tell what her first impression of them may be just from the look in her eyes."

"I don't get it. What's there to hate?" I demanded. "What did I do?"

"Well…there's you dress sense for one thing." Zara said pointedly. Glancing down at my baggy, ripped jeans, scruffy sneakers and oversized, second-hand emerald green shirt and my unkempt hair that I had forgotten to tie back with a bandana, I supposed that I must have appeared terribly out-of-place in the elaborately decorated entrance room.

"Oh shut up, Madeline Rose." I retorted bitterly, causing the laughter to stop and anger to flood into her face. She quickly recovered, and led the way to the nearest bathroom, leaving the startled doorman in her wake.

(o)

I had never felt more out of place at that dinner with the White family. Their dinning room – with its incredibly long chestnut table and matching fifteen high-backed dining chairs, blood red floor rug that resembled a tapestry, portraits and paintings framed in gold and hung along the red walls, and the huge chandelier positioned above the very centre of the room and table – was far too sophisticated for me, as was the case with the entire family.

Mr White was the sort of man who always wore a suit, even on weekends and when he wasn't working at whatever boring job he wasted most of his life away at. His firm, well structured face, tight and colourless lips, beady black eyes, thick muscled body and the little grey hair he had left made it hard for me to picture him wearing anything else at all. That night, he wore a grey suit and tie, giving the air that he was someone with little personality, which wasn't too far from the truth.

Zara's older sister, Penelope Anne, wasn't much better for company. She was eighteen, as Zara had told me, just out of school and preparing for collage. She was beautiful, no doubt, with her mother's elegant figure and her sister's pale skin, with butter blonde hair that reached as low as her waist, which she had tied back with a pink ribbon to match her pink cocktail gown and gold earrings. She was the sort of girl without any imperfections, who would be what her family would label as the perfect daughter.

Mr White was obviously unimpressed when we arrived in the dinning room late. Zara ignored his darkened glances, and lowered herself daintily into the seat beside her sister. I chose to follow her lead, and was about to sit beside her when Mrs White stopped me in a cool, yet uncollected tone.

"Darling, you are to sit in the guest's chair, over there." She nodded to the seat that was opposite the rest of the family, two seats down from where Zara sat.

"I don't want to sit there." I protested. Despite the fact that I was petrified by Mrs White, I did not want her to know my fear, and had never been one to settle for what others wanted of me, if it was not something I agreed to. "I'm isolated from everyone else, and look at all the other spare seats. Why can't I just sit next to Zara?"

"Because it is not what is done." Mrs White replied calmly, though any could see that she was clearly outraged. "You must sit in the guest's chair, dear."

"But…" I trailed away, baffled by the ignorance of the family. "But…who's going to sit in these other seats?"

"Oh, no one usually sits in those chairs." Mrs White replied airily. "You see, they're usually reserved for the more _important_ guests."

"But I'm your only guest." I said through clenched teeth, hating the way she would annunciate on the word 'important'.

"You may be our only guest tonight, but you are not an important guest. Now take your seat."

I did not move, determined not to give up, although I knew from the looks on everyone's faces that this was a battle I could not win. Both Zara and Penelope were gawking at me in awe, as if I had just broken an unwritten law. Mr and Mrs White were clearly bubbling with rage, though their upbringing did not permit them to brake out and holler at me from across the table. I could tell that all four were struggling to hold their composure, so I eventually decided it would be best to compromise.

"Why don't I just sit there?" I suggested, gesturing to the seat on Mr White's right hand side, directly opposite Mrs White.

"No," She shook her head firmly. "That is my son, Henry's seat."

"Henry doesn't live here anymore!" I blurted out, losing all sense of self control. "He moved out when he got married! Zara told me!"

"Would you please seise to refer to my daughter as Zara Black, and call her by her correct birth name!" Mrs White bellowed, rising to her feet with such rage that the chair toppled over behind her.

"Oh could you both please be quiet! Some of us are trying to enjoy our meal!" Mr White commanded from the head of the table, now getting to his feet as well in a burst of sudden rage. "Gwendolyn, let the child sit where she pleases and be done with it! This is an argument neither of you can win."

Mrs White was silent, her cheeks flushing red beneath her makeup from both anger and embarrassment. With excellent composure and grace, she stooped to return her chair to its rightful position, and lowered herself into it daintily, taking her cutlery in hand. I gazed back at her avidly, bewildered by her actions. It was as if the argument had never taken place.

"Pan," I heard Zara hiss in my ear. "Sit down."

Not taking the time to consider my actions, I moved to sit in Henry's seat to the right of Mr White, drawing myself closer to the table and causing the chair legs to scrape noisily across the shimmering surface of the wooden floor.

"Walter, please move Miss Son's dinner things to the place beside me." Mr White ordered with an exasperated sigh. Upon his command, a butler emerged from behind a door that led to the kitchen, and brought my meal, cutlery and glass and placed them all in front of me. I smiled in thanks, but said nothing as he backed into the kitchen again.

"So how are you finding living with the Briefs?" Mrs White asked me civilly from across the table after a pause. She pretended to be focused on her roast dinner, but I noticed that she was glancing up at me continuously from her plate.

"It's alright…I suppose." I mumbled, draining my glass of water with one gulp.

"I spoke with Bra Briefs only the other day." Penelope piped up, her voice meek and feeble. "Apparently, she and her husband are now awaiting their first child."

"Oh really?" Mr White replied sardonically. "How interesting."

"I don't see how they'll be able to raise a child in that tiny apartment they call a home. And with the lifestyles they have…" Mrs White shook her head in false dismay. "What did Bulma make of it all?"

"Oh, she was very happy." I replied lamely. Mrs White raised one fine eyebrow, but made no comment about my statement.

"Yes, well…any woman would be happy to be a grandmother. I know I was pleased when my Henry had his first. Madeline Rose, fetch me a glass of scotch, would you?"

"What about that Trunks Briefs, Pan?" Penelope said excitedly. I half expected Zara to drop the glass of scotch she was carrying back to the table at the mere mention of Trunks' name, but she managed to uphold her composure. "How many women have been to see him during your stay?"

"Of course, Penelope Anne is completely infatuated by him. But then again, so are many other young girls in this part of the world. He is, I suppose, the most eligible bachelor in Capsule City. Quite an attractive creature, with a good job, good money and a good background. Not very well mannered, though. But I honestly don't blame him, with an upbringing like his. His father! My word, have you seen him? Apparently, he encourages violence and recklessness in the boy, and his behaviour is appalling. I remember having the Briefs here to dinner once, when Zara was away on summer camp…oh, what a night that was! But his mother isn't much better…what with all her crazy experiments and barbeques and social hours…you know, apparently she's been known to have these stragglers come to stay with her from out in the woods. Complete barbarians, I believe."

I swallowed a lump of turkey that had been caught in the back of my throat. Mrs White's gossip really opened my eyes to the way the rest of high society saw the Briefs family…and it was a complete alteration of the truth. Especially what she had said about my family, although I decided not to bring up the fact that I was one of those 'barbarians'.

"So why are you staying with the Briefs?" Penelope asked me.

"Oh my dear, haven't you heard?" Mrs White exclaimed, pausing to build tension whilst taking a sip of her scotch. "The Briefs have taken Pan in as a kind favour to her family, apparently who are old and well known friends of theirs. Pan has been staying with them for the summer because her family fears that she won't be able to cope with the approaching and inevitable death of her young cousin."

This time, I could not swallow the piece of turkey that caught in my throat out of pure rage and began to choke and splutter. Mr White patted me on the back with a firm, stiff hand, though it did me no good. I was enraged not only with the White family, but with high society in general. My life really was none of their business.

"Oh dear! Are you alright?" Penelope asked worriedly.

I nodded, speaking through coughs. "Yeah. I'm fine…just need…water."

I stood and darted to the offside table to the right side of the main dining table, pushed up against the wall. Several drinks had been left in glass jugs on the table, ready for refilling. I took my time helping myself to a glass of apple juice, listening to the conversation still taking place behind me.

"You know," Mrs White continued. "They say that Pan's cousin is violently ill with a new disease found only in children of his age. Quite a rare thing to happen, actually, and they are yet to discover a cure for the illness, which means that there is no hope for the poor child. Quite a tragedy, really."

"Shut the hell up, mum." Zara hissed in an infertile attempt to stop me from overhearing.

"Language, Madeline Rose." Mrs White instructed.

"Oh right." Zara smirked, using the opportunity to change the subject. "Shut the hell up, _mother_."

"I have raised the child of the devil." Mrs White sighed melodramatically.

"Damn straight." Zara cackled.

"Madeline, be silent or you'll be sent to your room." Mr White warned. I noticed upon returning to the table that Mr White had already practically licked his plate clean of gravy. I decided to make a point of finishing all my potatoes in an effort to gain his admiration. Sure enough, he smiled at me approvingly.

I was just beginning to be accepted at the table, even by Mrs White, when I took a long gulp of apple juice to wash down the roasted pork I'd just finished, much to Mr White's approval. The moment the glass touched my lips, I knew that its contense wasn't apple juice. It was Mrs White's scotch. But already it was too late, and the horrible stuff had slid down into my throat. I gurgled the drink back into my mouth and spat it out across the table. It spurted from my mouth and flew over the table, drenching Mrs White's pastel pink suit.

For a moment, she stared at me disbelievingly, as if she refused to believe that I had just covered her from head to toe in scotch and my own saliva. But slowly, her delicate forehead creased into frown lines, and her eyes shone darkly, mouth twisting into a strange, evil smile.

"Ok, we better be off now, everyone. Thanks for the food, really great." Zara said hurriedly, taking in the situation immediately. I rose to my feet, glancing at Mrs White. She did not move, as if frozen in time with her own bitter loathing.

"What…what are you talking about, girl? You haven't finished off your turkey yet!" Mr White exclaimed.

"Yes, well I'm really not that hungry right now." Zara spoke as she crossed the room and grabbed me by the arm, wrenching me to the door that led into the main corridor of the house. "I guess we'll be seeing you all later. Bye!"

Luckily for me, I didn't have to see Mrs White again for the rest of the evening.

(o)

"So why did you bring me over here in the first place?" I asked her irritably when we arrived in her room.

I guessed that her room must have been her refuge from the rest of her house, as her parents had obviously allowed her to design it to her own liking. She had painted the walls black and the ceiling gold, and a huge stereo took up almost one whole wall. She had a fake leopard-fur bedspread, a black plush elephant the size of a full-grown man she'd told me she'd kept from her childhood and never wanted to part with that sat on the beige carpet beside her wardrobe, and a black beanbag that rested beside her collection of CDs.

"You're going to think I'm incredibly childish and stupid." She muttered darkly, sprawling out across her four poster bed. I dragged the beanbag over to the side of the bed and dropped into it casually, glad to be able to relax and forget about the rest of Zara's family, that were most likely still discussing me downstairs.

"Zara, I already think you're incredibly childish and stupid." I retorted. "So just come out with it, ok?"

"Fine." She replied huffily, propping herself up with one arm and turning to face me completely, keeping her eyes downwards with embarrassment and toying with the leopard-fur bedspread between her fingers. "I like someone. Happy?"

"Well, no…not particularly. I didn't ask for you to tell me in the first place, and if that's what you dragged me over here for, then I'm not going to be very happy with you." I sighed. "Besides, I already am aware of your obsession with Trunks Briefs."

"Oh, but this isn't like it was with Trunks." Zara giggled. "It's not just some stupid crush on someone that I have no chance with. This is for real."

"I thought your crush on Trunks was real." I replied, somehow feeling as if a great load of weight had been lifted from my back by her words.

"No!" She cried. "Well…yes. But it wasn't as if I had any chance with him, huh? So of course I was only just toying with the idea. It wasn't as if I planned to go out with him or anything. But this time…now it really is for real."

"You know, Zara." I said irritably. "You're really starting to sound like a teenager."

"Err…Pan? In case you haven't noticed yet, I am a teenager!"

"Ok, ok." I held up my hands in protest. "Ease up a little, will you?"

"Sorry." She muttered, then changed her tone completely. "Anyway, aren't you going to ask me who it is?"

"No."

"Why not?" She demanded.

"Because I'm not particularly interested in knowing." I said truthfully. "And besides, I know that you're going to drag it out…take your time…blush a little and giggle girlishly a few times first before you tell me anything."

"Some friend you are." She scowled.

"Fine, then. Tell me who it is." I groaned, dying to have the matter over with.

Just as I has suspected, Zara decided to drag the whole matter out. She giggled and blushed, and toyed with her bedspread some more before getting up and pacing the room a little before she finally told me when I yawned loudly to show her I was bored.

"Mason Carter." She finally blurted out. "I'm in love with Mason Carter."

At first, the news came as a shock to me, especially since Mason was so incredibly unattractive, and the last person on earth who Zara would be likely to fall for. But when I thought about it, I realized just how much time Zara and Mason had spent together over the summer, and how much conversations they'd so avidly shared with one another. Over the course of the time I'd spent with them, I'd noticed that Zara had stopped swooning whenever Trunks' name was mentioned, and Mason had stopped trying to flirt with me and drive me to the point of insanity. Although I had never registered this as a sign of attraction. It was then that it occurred to me that I hardly knew anything about love.

"Don't ask me why." She laughed fondly to herself. "I don't really know how it happened. I mean, he isn't much to look at…but he's so funny, and decently intelligent, and we have so much in common. I guess I just…love being around him."

Most of the thoughts that had been circling around her head all this time were very similar my thoughts of Trunks. But Trunks was only a crush…it would go away, like Zara's crush on Trunks. It was only a phase…just a phase…I only felt this way about him because he was the first person I had ever kissed. He never loved me, and I never loved him. He had only been toying with me, and it had landed him in trouble. So now he despised me, and that was why he was being so bitter towards me…because the games he had played with me had ended up nearly costing him his career. Perhaps it would be the same with Mason and Zara, if she had been suffering from the same thoughts I had. I began to pray that it wouldn't be the same, as I watched her pace across the floor of her room. Zara mightn't be able to take heartbreak so well…maybe she would consider suicide for real this time.

"I think he might ask me out soon." Zara said with delight. "It seems to be going in that direction at the moment."

"Well good for you." I put on a false smile. "I'm happy for you, Zara."

"I wish there was something I could do about you and Trunks." Zara replied gravely. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright." I grinned. "It wasn't, as you said, for real anyway. It's just a phase…he realized that and he was toying with me to get what he wanted, but it ended up landing him in trouble. He never loved me."

Zara opened her mouth to refute, but we were interrupted when someone rapped fiercely on the door.

"Who is it?" She hollered.

"It's Walter, Madam." The butler replied. "I have been sent to call Miss Son down to the lobby. Mr Briefs is here to collect her."

Zara and I met eyes, and for one terrifying moment, I was almost certain I was going to vomit. I felt my entire body freeze with fear, while my companions eyes widened with excitement, and was about to sprint childishly towards her bed and duck under it, when she grasped my wrist and pulled me to the door.

"We'll be right there." She informed Walter.

"Very well." Walter replied, and we listened in silence to the sounds of his footsteps fading away downstairs.

Zara turned to me. "I'll go with you."

"No." I shook my head. "I don't need an escort. I'll be fine."

We were still for a moment, before she reached out to me and embraced me in a warm hug, smiling as we parted and leaning past me to open the door.

"Good luck." She winked as I stepped out into the corridor. She closed the door behind her when I reached the top of the staircase, and I could hear her playing one of her Marylin Manson CDs at top volume as I made my way down to the lobby as slowly as humanly possible.

(o)

"So why isn't Bulma here?" I asked Trunks as we left the White's home and moved out into the darkened street. It was raining heavily now, and the rainwater pelted onto the smooth surface of Trunks' car.

"She's too wrapped up in another one of her stupid soap operas." He said sullenly, not bothering to meet my eyes as I reached the car and threw open the door, climbing into the passenger seat. "So she sent me to get you instead."

I laughed meekly, trying to lighten the atmosphere between us. I couldn't understand why we could talk to freely to one another before, and now he hardly was able to say a word to me. Things just didn't feel right anymore…and it was all because of one kiss.

The drive back to Capsule corp. would be a long and uncomfortable one, especially without Trunks' usual background music when he drove. This was the first time I had been alone with Trunks since the day he kissed me, and already I noticed distinct changes within him. His driving was slightly jerky and uncontrolled, his kind features sharp and firm, his eyes cold and dark. The muscles of his biceps tightened with the effort it took for him to grip the steering wheel. Even his dishevelled, lavender hair looked violent against the harsh summer storm. Something had changed inside him…he wasn't soft anymore.

I turned to face the window, staring out at my own reflection in the glass and listening to the sound of the rain pattering upon the car roof, and the thunder and lighting roaring and cackling in the distance. In the window's reflection, I could see him sitting at the wheel, stiff in his navy blue tracksuit with white stripes down the sides of his legs and arms, the jacket unzipped down to his chest so that the top of his white shirt beneath it could be revealed. I couldn't stand the silence anymore. I needed to follow Bra and Mason's advice. We needed to talk.

"Trunks," I said, my voice no louder than a whisper as I turned to face him. "Trunks, we need to talk."

"What do you mean?" He frowned, keeping his eyes on the road. "We have nothing to talk about."

"No, we have more than enough to talk about." I shook my head violently.

"Oh yeah?" He said angrily, pulling up at a red light and turning round in his seat to face me. "Like what?"

"Like what happened almost two weeks ago." I replied, my voice firm and strong although I was shaking inside. "Why did you kiss me?"

Trunks sighed, steering the car away from the main road once he was permitted to drive again, and drove it up to the side of the curb. For one terrifying moment, I was afraid of what he planned to do, but he merely unbuckled his seatbelt and faced me properly. I saw that his eyes were now ablaze with fury.

"Don't deny that you didn't want me to do it." He scowled. "You think you're so tough…so tomboyish and strong. You think that you can handle anything, and you try to hide your emotions and make excuses for yourself to push your feelings below you. You think you are above human emotion, but you're not. You're like everyone else. You feel pain, suffering, hatred, jealously, sadness…love."

"That's not true." I replied, although I new that I was lying. He was right…I hated my emotions. They were what made me weak. No matter what anyone said, emotions were the single source of weakness. But this discussion was not about me. It was about him.

"At least I'm not afraid to feel." He continued. "At least I'm not afraid to express myself…I'm not afraid to be human."

"Yes you are!" I shouted, suddenly enraged myself. "You're so bloody afraid of yourself that you won't even find out who you really are! You just abide to everyone else's expectations of you, and you do what they want, just to please them. Sometimes it's not so good to be so unselfish. Sometimes you need to think about yourself, because otherwise you'll just be tearing yourself apart."

"Stop…doing that!!" He screamed, crying out in sudden frustration. It frightened me so much that I forgot to be angry with him, and backed into the corner of the car, whimpering to myself. I even forgot to be brave. I had never felt so weak, or so helpless…so lost. Everything I had said about him so far was true, and everything he had said about me was true, as much as I had tried to deny it, and as much as I had tried to push it all away and work my thoughts around it. But I didn't want it to be true…I didn't want anything to be true. I just wished that things could go back to the way they were.

"I know you're right. I know it's all true…but I don't want to believe it." He sighed angrily. "Before you came, everything was fine. I worked that terrible job for Bulma, and kept up with my training for Vegeta. Hell, I even helped out Bra and Uub when they needed volunteers with their community service work. I babysat you so your parents could have a break! I was unhappy…the only thing I had to look forward to was looking after you, but soon even that small thread of happiness was taken away from me when you started going to school. I loved making them proud…I wanted everyone to be happy. That's what we all had in mind all those years before you were born, when we made peace by defeating Majin Buu back when I was still a kid. We dreamed of a world of happiness…and I was going to make sure that we had it, even if it meant denying myself of my own wants and desires. But then you came along. You, with all your good morals and carefree attitude. You with your boyish good looks and dry sense of humour…your silly little charm and habits…that fire that burned inside of you. That fire that had always been there, even when you were a child. You made me remember what happiness was…what it was like to think not for others, but for yourself. You reminded me of things I hadn't thought or felt for years and years. You taught me to be me again. I was actually considering giving up on everyone else and being who I wanted to be. But then you kissed me…that's when I was brought back to earth. I remembered that these were just dreams…only dreams. I realized that I had just touched an underage girl, and was now risking losing my job or worse if it got out into the public, which was why I was forced to fire Amanda, one of my most trusted employees. I realized that it was too dangerous for me to ever see you again. So I had to avoid you…but even so there was no escaping you, even if we didn't live in the same house, you'd still haunt me. You'd be in my dreams. It's all ruined now, Pan. The happiness I worked so hard to build for everyone…that's all over. It all finished the day Elijah became ill. Someone will always be unhappy. My parents…my sister…my best friend…you…me. Worst of all, I've fallen in love with a sixteen year old!"

I was speechless, struggling to process and understand everything he had just told me. So many thoughts and emotions…so many dark secrets he'd kept locked away for so long had just erupted and come out in a flood is disjoined ideas and sentences. I could see from the look in his eyes that he feared he had said too much. But none of these things mattered. There was only one thing going through my mind at that time.

I've fallen in love with a sixteen year old… 

"D-Do you love me, Trunks?" I trembled, feeling tears prickle in the corners of my eyes again.

He stared at me, stunned, but said not a word. Eventually he turned with a heavy sigh and fastened his seatbelt, gripping the steering wheel and revving the engine. I did not blame him for not wanting to talk to me, and I did not expect him to. He had said more than enough. But even so, the flurry of emotions that overcame me were too great even for me to push back and hide. I wouldn't be able to last the trip home with him in the car, and I wasn't going to let him see me cry.

In one swift movement, I wrenched the door open and stepped out into the rain, running off the pavement and down the small garden path between two houses that led to the beach, the scent of the salt water my only guide in the darkened night. I could hear Trunks calling my name from the car behind me, but pretended not to over the loud roar of the approaching thunder and lighting. As I ran, I felt tears leak down my cheeks, and mix and blend with the rain that hammered on my back, drenching me from head to foot. I did not care, and I did not look back.

The beach was empty and wild, with the dark and murky waters crashing mercilessly on the sodden sand. In the distance, I could see streaks of lighting breaking through the rumbling clouds and crashing onto the small island not too far away from the mainland. I knew it was dangerous to be here, but I also knew that this was the only place where I could be alone. I sat down on a rock ledge out towards the ocean, listening to the many surrounding sounds as I stared avidly out to sea.

It was not a phase. It was not a crush. Trunks had not been toying with me and my emotions. It had all been real. Trunks was in love with me, the same as I was in love with him.

(o)

A/N: Thanks for reading, please review!


	14. A new beginning

I didn't get back to Capsule until well past midnight. I had hoped to find everyone sleeping, so I could slip upstairs and take a shower before bed. No one would ever need to know that I'd spent hours sitting alone on a beach claimed by a vicious storm. Unfortunately – like everything else that had happened thus far during the summer – things did not go to plan. Bulma, Vegeta and Trunks were wide awake and pacing the front foyer of the house, waiting for my return.

"Pan!" Bulma shrieked the moment I wrenched open the heavy front door. She ran over to me instantly, enveloping me in a tight embrace. "Oh my goodness, Pan! You scared me half to death. Trunks told me that you jumped out of his car and ran off, and I-"

She paused, suddenly breaking away from me and holding me by the shoulders at an arms length. I could see that her bright teal eyes were glinting with rage. "Don't you ever do that to me again, do you understand? You could have been killed! Who knows what sort of people could have been lurking about, just waiting for a little girl like you to wander down a dark alleyway-"

"Honestly woman, the child has Sayian blood in her! Even if that…ridiculous theory of your had come to pass, I'm sure the girl would be perfectly capable of taking care of herself." Vegeta interrupted.

"Sayian or not, she's still a little girl. And while she's living under our roof, it's up to all of us to ensure her safety at all times."

"Would you quit calling me a little girl?" I demanded, surprised by the obvious fatigue in my own voice. Walking back through the darkened, rainy night had not only left me drenched from head to toe, but had also brought on intense feelings of exhaustion. All I wanted to do was go straight up to my room, collapse atop my bed and sleep for hours.

"I know you like to think you're older than you really are, Pan, but you're only sixteen years old."

"Sixteen and a half." I protested. "I'll be seventeen come this December."

"Even so, you are still a child. A strong and independent child, no doubt." She added quickly upon reading the darkened expression on my face. "But still a child, at any rate. Look at it from my point of view. My oldest son comes home late at night and tells me that the girl I was meant to be looking after over the summer had just jumped out of his car and run off into the night, without so much as a hint as to where she was going. I was worried sick! Anything could have happened to you! And what if something did happen? I'd never be able to forgive myself! And your parents…what on earth would they think? They sent you to live with us so you could have a good summer, and not have to deal with everything they must be going through, not to mention your uncle and aunt. Imagine how they would feel if something did happen to you!"

"But nothing did happen, I'm fine!" I retorted. "So can we just forget this and all go to sleep?"

"Oh no, you're not going anywhere yet." Bulma stopped me. "We're going to need to sort this whole matter out."

I sighed, placing my hand over my heart and spoke sarcastically. "I solemnly swear never to go anywhere again without telling someone where I am going first, and I will never go out in the dead of night when I am likely to be abducted by a strange man. I apologize to the entire family for my actions, for worrying them half to death, and most importantly, for keeping them up late. There, all fixed. Now can I please just go to bed?"

For a brief moment, I caught a glimpse of a glimmer in Trunks' eyes from where he stood, leaning against the wall in the background. It was only a glance, but I was sure that I saw the corners of his lips upturn into a faint smile. In a flash, it had disappeared, and his expression was solemn once more. He deliberately did not look at me.

"I'm afraid that's not good enough, young lady." Bulma continued, breaking me from my reverie. I turned my attentions back to the angered woman in front of me, who was scowling with discontent. "From now on, we're going to have to put some stronger rules into practice. For starters, you're grounded for the next week."

"What!?" I gaped. Never before, throughout the course of my entire lifetime, had I ever been grounded. My parents never really saw the point in it. Besides, I had only ever thought that my parents could ground me. Obviously I was mistaken. "You…you can't do that!"

"Watch me." She grinned malevolently. "From now on, you're not aloud out of the house at anytime past five unless you are in the company of Trunks, Vegeta or myself, and the only times you'll be meeting up with your friends are at their houses, or here. Understand?"

"Yeah. Whatever." I scowled.

"You know I'm only doing it for your own good. Until you can prove to me that you can be more responsible with the freedom I have been giving you, I'm going to have to take that freedom away." She smiled suddenly, traces of kindness breaking through on the surface of her clearly exhausted face. "Now upstairs to bed if you're really all that tired."

I nodded, rounding on my heel and marched upstairs angrily. I couldn't believe that Bulma had virtually confined me to Capsule corp. for the rest of the summer! What power did she have to ground me? Since when had she taken the place of my parents? But when I reached my room, I forgot to be tired and collapsed on my bed, instantly falling to sleep.

(o)

I hardly saw Trunks over the course of the next three days. Although we had been living together in the same house, and slept in rooms that were only four doors apart, we had both wisely been keeping distance from each other. The only times when I had seen him were during meal times, or when someone else was present in the room. We never saw or spoke to each other alone. This was because there was rarely a time when Trunks had not immersed himself with work, cutting himself off from me completely.

Only once did I manage to find him alone. I had been on my way back to my bedroom, when we had crossed paths down the middle of the hall when he had unexpectedly emerged from behind the door to his room. He barged straight past me, his arm lightly grazing my own, and did not say a word to me. For this, I was thankful. I did not want to have to speak, let alone think about him for what remained of the summer.

Like Trunks, I decided to make myself secluded from the rest of the family. I slept and showered, read Bra's books and used the computer. I hardly left my room, with the exception of mealtimes and whenever else I was asked to join the rest of the family. I received no phone calls, nor did I make any. I had never been so alone before, and yet this had no effect on me whatsoever. It seemed that all my thoughts and emotions had been whisked away by the sea, for not a thought crossed my mind at all. I found myself incapable of feeling anything, from the summer breeze on my face, to the sadness lurking in my heart. I hardly thought of anything, as if my mind had been left completely blank. Not once did I think of Trunks or Elijah. I didn't even think about the whether. My mind was nothing but a blank and empty shell…my emotions and thoughts were inexistent.

Then, once three days of my one week of living in isolation had passed, the phone rang while I was in the shower. I stepped onto the cold, white tiles of the bathroom floor, wrapping a towel around me and making my way to the phone in a sort of daze, as if I were merely imagining that the phone had rung in the first place. I picked it up and held it to my hear warily.

"Finally. It took you a while to pick up." Zara said the minute I had lifted the receiver.

"I was in the shower." I mumbled, my voice as empty and emotionless as I felt.

"Sorry, it's kind of a weird hour to be calling." She apologized. "But I have some exciting news!"

"Yeah?" I asked dully, not at all interested in knowing. Zara hardly talked of anything interesting anymore. Lately she had been turning into a real…teenager. "What?"

"Mason asked me out!" She practically squealed. "He called me up yesterday, and wanted to know if I would like to go and see a movie with him. When I told him I'd call you and invite you to, he said not to because he just wanted this to be the two of us…like a date. Isn't that amazing?"

"Yeah…great." I muttered sardonically.

"Well you could at least _try_ to sound more enthusiastic." Zara replied. "This is a big deal for me, Pan."

"Sorry. I just have a lot on my mind right now." I lied. I did not want her to know that my mind had been nothing but an empty space for the past three days. I knew that she would probably make a link to the way I had been feeling to Trunks. Even so, I still hated lying to my best friend.

"Sorry. Is this a bad time to be calling?" She asked, although I knew she meant to say 'Has something happened with Elijah or Trunks?'.

"No. Everything's fine." I lied again. "So when have you guys arranged to meet up?"

"Five in the evening." She giggled. "In only four hours time. God, Pan, what am I going to wear?"

"Now that's something I honestly can't help you with. My dress sense isn't all that suited for the occasion." I replied. "Listen, I better let you go. Sounds like you've got a lot to do."

"Sure do. Why don't we meet up tomorrow and I'll tell you all about it?"

"Sounds like a plan." I answered, deciding not to tell her that I was no longer aloud to go out with friends for the rest of the summer. "I'll call you tomorrow, ok?"

"Alright. See you, Pan."

After I hung up, I found myself at a lose end. My conversation with Zara had somehow helped to knock some sense back into me. I began to think about Trunks and Elijah, and experience the emotions that came with each of my problems. No matter how I tried to continue with my daunting way of life, I found it impossible to ignore the oncoming swarm of emotions and feeling that had suddenly overcome me. Eventually, I decided to preoccupy my mind with something more challenging by heading to the Gravity Room for a training session with Vegeta.

I changed into something that would be suitable for training – baggy brown cargo pants, a black tank top I'd had since I was about twelve and my oldest, scruffiest sneakers with a black bandana tied around my head – and made my way downstairs as quickly as possible. Like I had supposed, Vegeta was in the Gravity Room, taking his body through several basic stretches. He froze the instant he saw me, bringing himself back into a neutral position, a large, satisfied smirk gracing his twisted face.

"So, the little girl has decided to come out and play, has she?" He chuckled.

"Yeah, that's right." I grimaced in reply. "Only this time, you'll be the one going down."

"Well you seem pretty self assured for someone who got the crap kicked out of them last time." He smirked. "But if you really want to lose that bad, then fine."

I was about to leave to change as I had done last time we sparred (briefly taking the time to note that the clothes I was about to change into once belonged to Trunks) when Bulma burst into the room, her usually pale cheeks flushed pink, her eyes wide and glittering with delight.

"I was just on the phone to Goten," She panted, slightly out of breath. No doubt she'd been on the other side of the house when she received the call. "He…hospital…good news…"

Both Vegeta and I exchanged a puzzled glance, giving me the impression that he knew as well as I did that nothing could come of hospitals. We were silent, awaiting her to string her few fragmented breaths of words together to form a sentence.

"Goten says that Marron had her second baby just last night." She finally managed to say. "A baby girl this time, named Tia. Apparently she was born at about 11pm last night."

I froze, feeling the colour flood from my face. With all the tragedy that had consumed my family over the summer, it had been easy to forget that Marron was still pregnant with a child that was due to be born two months into the summer. I also found it hard to believe that two months had passed since I first discovered that something was wrong with Elijah, though this thought barely crossed my mind at all. The announcement of the birth of my new cousin was like a light in the darkness…a burning flame in a room that was cold…she was the symbol of a new beginning…of hope, now that everything else seemed lost for our family. She was the new generation.

"We're heading straight over to the hospital to see her." Bulma continued joyously. "All of us - Yes, that means you too, Vegeta."

I didn't say a word to anyone on the way to the hospital from the backseat of Bulma's capsule car. Vegeta was saying enough for the both of us, due to the continuous complaints he made about being interrupted from his training, and the frequent refutes made by Bulma. I was still recovering from the shock of the news of the birth when Bulma pulled up outside the hospital and put the car back inside its capsule, then led the way to the waiting room and reception area – the room I had found myself in at the very beginning of the summer, when it was first foretold that Elijah was going to die.

"We're looking for a Mrs Marron Son, please." Bulma informed the woman behind the desk, a young girlish character with mousy blonde hair and a meek, inexperienced air about her.

"She's in room number 303, on the third floor." The girl replied after scanning her computer screens. "There's a few people up there visiting her already, and I think quite a large number of her family was there earlier. I'm not sure if they've left yet, but they might still be there."

My heart caught suddenly in my throat, and I felt my stomach lurch. So there was a chance that I may be able to see my parents! I had never been separated from my family for so long before, and although I hadn't admitted it to even myself yet, I did miss them sorely. I practically ran to the elevator, and was bouncing on the balls of my feet all the way up to the third floor.

Only when we arrived in room 303, my parents were nowhere to be seen. It was a small, cramped room that consisted of two single hospital beds that were occupied by two women – a large, burly looking one surrounded by a swarm of children that were unmistakably her own, and holding the newest one tightly in her beefy arms. There was no father to be seen. The other bed belonged to my aunt.

For a woman who had just had her second child, and was in the process of losing her first, she managed to look as beautiful as ever. Wisps of her lavish blonde hair tumbled loosely over her shoulders, framing her chalk white face, cheeks flushed slightly pink to match the pink nightgown she wore. Her glimmering emerald green eyes, filled with love and admiration, were focused solely on the white bundle nestled in her arms, pressed tightly against her breasts.

She was not entirely alone in the room. Bra and Uub were both already there, as well as Marron's parents, my grandfather's best friend since childhood, Krillin, and his wife, 18, who all smiled warmly upon us as we joined them in the room.

"Bulma! Vegeta! Boy, it's been a while." Krillin beamed, standing on his toes in attempt to peer past us into the corridor that lay beyond. Even in comparison to Vegeta and I (both of us being incredibly short individuals for our age group) he was by far the shortest in the room. "Hey, you haven't brought Trunks with you, have you?"

"No, he had to work." Bulma replied gruelingly. "Though he promised he'd come out to the hospital as soon as he can."

"Shame." Krillin frowned. "Well…I'm sure we'll be able to catch up with him soon."

Bulma proceeded to make her way around the room, passing off warm greetings to everyone that was there, while Vegeta and I stood awkwardly in the doorway, until we were noticed by Bra.

"You know, Pan, you and my dad could almost be passed off as being related when you stand next to each other like that, wouldn't you all think?"

I felt my cheeks burn red, and moved away from Vegeta instantly, making my way further into the room. It was bad enough that someone would compare me to Vegeta in appearance without making mention to the fact that we looked as if we were related. Being related to Vegeta was a vision beyond the horrors of my worst nightmare. Glancing at him from across the room, I could see plainly that he agreed with me.

"Oh, she's gorgeous!" Bulma exclaimed, having moved to Marron's bedside. "Come and have a look, Pan!"

I was pushed towards the bed, and found myself standing beside my young cousin. Peering between the white blankets she was wrapped in, I could see that she was a very placid child, with chubby cheeks, very pale skin and a tiny, button nose. Already there was a few strands of blonde hair growing atop her mostly bald head.

"Would you like to hold her?" Marron asked me lightly, and I nodded violently, holding out my arms to take the child from her.

Holding baby Tia in my arms reminded me of when I'd held Elijah in the same way, back when he was born three years ago. She felt so frail in my arms, weak and feeble in the grasp of my firm arms, reminding me of how fragile life truly was…of how one person's life could be taken in an instant, because of the true weakness of a human body. Perhaps even when I had been holding Elijah, the way he felt in my arms had been a clue to his future.

But in a way, this child was different to Elijah. There was more than just the fragileness of life reflected in this baby. When she opened her eyes, and gazed up into mine, not only did I see that she had my eyes, but they were filled with a source of power, of rebirth, and of redemption. Tia was the future. As I had thought before, she was the new generation, and the hope in the darkness for our family.

I was reluctant to hand her back over to her mother, because she gave me warmth and comfort in a way I could not describe. Already there was a profound connection between the two of us, and I had only held her for a few minutes.

"Congratulations, Marron." I mumbled quietly, and she smiled placidly in reply as I handed her daughter back to her.

"Too bad you didn't get here earlier." Bra told me when I stood back beside her, while Bulma continued to talk excitedly to Marron. "You just missed out on seeing your parents, and your grandparents. They literally just left after you arrived, and your uncle is staying with Elijah at the moment."

"Hmm…" I replied absentmindedly. "Hey, tell Bulma I've gone for a walk. I'll be back later, ok?"

"Sure." Bra smiled understandingly, allowing me to slip by everyone and shuffle back down the corridor, hands dug into the depths of my pockets as I went.

I hardly looked at where I was going, and unexpectedly barged into a nurse on her way to a separate hospital ward, and knocked over the tray of medical supplies she had been carrying with her. Clumsily muttering an apology, I bent to help her collect the items again.

"It's quite alright, dear. No doubt I would have dropped it myself later anyway." She beamed cheerily. It surprised me that someone who spent her days working with seriously ill patience could maintain such a cheerful nature.

"So what's a nice girl like you doing in a hospital?" She asked me.

"M-My aunt just had a baby." I replied.

"Oh how wonderful! The birth of new life is truly a glorious thing, isn't it?" She exclaimed with overwhelming enthusiasm. I merely smiled shyly in reply.

"I'm off to the children's ward." She told me. "A little one has just been transferred here from the country. Poor darling has been diagnosed with cancer. It's going to be difficult for her…out here all alone. You know her family didn't want to come out with her? The poor thing must be terrified, out here all alone and lost in a big city filled with unfamiliar faces. But you really can't blame them, what with having other young children and all…still, it would be nice to have someone here for her. It's family that makes all the difference, you know, when a person is dying, especially with young children. It is the love of the family that ensures that the child will die happily, knowing that they are going to a better place. Can you imagine what it would be like for a child that young to die alone…?"

(o)

A/N: Thanks for reading, please review!


	15. Believe the unbelievable

A/N: I don't own 'Always' by Blink182.

(o)

"So how was it?" I had to ask scarcely a few days later as I stuffed my feet into a stingy pair of hired roller-blades while sitting beside my best friend.

"Huh?" Zara replied airily as she strapped her blades to her feet with fumbling fingers. She'd been shaking ever since we returned, and there was a certain fluttering excitement following her…a rather confusing emotion that I just couldn't place. "How was what, Pan?"

"The date, you idiot!" I bellowed with irritable frustration. "How was your date with Mason?"

It had been almost a week since we visited Marron and the new baby in the hospital, and after several grueling hours of helping Bulma to keep her house tidy, she'd finally aloud me to spend a few hours outside Capsule corp. with Zara, as long as I could be arranged to be picked up by one of the Briefs. Although I knew I should be enjoying my time out while I had it, I couldn't help but worry who would be picking me up. I hadn't seen Trunks (even in the company of others) since the day he told me he loved me, and I'd escaped from his car…the day I realized I was, unavoidably in love with him.

"Oh that!" She exclaimed, making a great effort to sound as though it were nothing at all. "It was alright…I suppose."

I knew she was only being this way for my sake. Naturally, I had told her all about Trunks over the phone while hiding in the security of my closet. We didn't get a chance to speak about her date, because she had been far too concerned with me. That was when she suggested I ask Bulma for some time out at the skating rink, and eventually Bulma had agreed. It wasn't until after I'd hung up, however, that I realized I had forgotten to ask her about her first date. I could see hesitance masked in the depths of Zara's coal black eyes, mixed with a longing to brag about the night. Finally, she cracked, and erupted in a fit of flurried emotion.

"It was the best night of my life! It started off all casual…I got dressed and showered and did my makeup three hours before…he complimented me, and then he bought us drinks and popcorn and stuff…then we saw the movie, and-" She squealed, and it took a great deal of coaxing for her to continue. "and during the movie, he put his hand on my knee!"

I couldn't help but feel slightly put out. I may have been the one out of the two of us to be the first to receive a kiss, but she had beaten me to being the first to having a stable relationship. I knew I could never expect that from Trunks. He was the man who had babysat me as a child, and had been so close to our family for as long as I could remember. He was far too old for me…and our relationship could probably get him into a lot of trouble with his parents, and his family situation was bad enough as it was without my involvement. Although I supposed Vegeta really wouldn't mind it…but even so, Trunks and I could never happen. I could never find another guy, either, so I guess I was left with what I'd always craved for. A life of solitude and training…making me into a strong and able woman, and one who was not smitten or tied down by love. With the exception of Elijah, my life plan would be complete. Then why was I so jealous of Zara when she retold the events of her date.

"You didn't kiss?" I asked quizzically.

She firmly shook her head. "Hell no! Not on the first date, Zara!"

I raised a fine eyebrow at her. "Trunks and I kissed _before _we'd even been on one date, or had any plans to have a proper relationship."

"Yeah…well…you and Trunks are different." I could tell that Zara was not at ease with discussing my relationship. "Different circumstances."

She was certainly right there. In my current state, I could never image Trunks flouncing off to the movies with me. It just didn't seem…right.

Just as we were about to head out onto the skating rink, I caught site of a teal hair woman somewhere by the door. I groaned, wondering why Bulma had decided to collect me so early, when I realized that it was Bra instead. She was waving at me frantically, beckoning me to her. I grasped hold of Zara's hand, whirled us both around and glided to the door to meet her.

"Pan, you have to come with me right now!" Bra exclaimed. "I have something very important to show you."

"Can't it wait?" I pleaded. "Zara and I were just-"

"No, it can't wait. We need to leave immediately." And with that, she took hold of my wrist and pulled me out the door with such force that it took me by surprise, and I lost my balance, toppling over onto my back. It was then that I remembered that I needed to return my skates. Zara and I tore them off our feet and returned them, snatching hold of our own shoes and carrying them with us to Bra's car.

"Where are we going?" Asked Zara, leaning forward from the back seat and poking her head between the two front ones where Bra and I were sitting. "And who the heck are you?"

"I take it this is your friend Zara?" Bra asked politely and as calmly as she could, gripping the steering wheel tightly while maneuvering the car around another bend.

"Yeah. Zara, this is Bra. Bra, this is Zara." I explained briefly. I had suddenly become caught up in the excitement of what was happening around me…filled with perplexity as to why Bra had dragged me off in such a hurry. It was enough to make my bare legs stick to the leather car seat with sweat, and I struggled to pull down my denim short-shorts so that I wouldn't leave wet patches on the seat when I stood up.

"Where are we going?" Zara repeated to none in particular, hoping that soon her question would be answered.

"The beach." Bra replied, not bothering to take her eyes away from the road in front of her as she drove. "I called up home last night to speak to Trunks…ask him when he'd be coming up to the hospital and if he actually did plan to visit me when I went into labor. Somehow we got into a really long conversation…most of it involving you, Pan." She glanced briefly in my direction. "Trunks is waiting for you on the beach. And he has a surprise."

"What surprise?" I asked anxiously.

Bra merely winked in reply. "You'll see."

The car crunched to a halt in a parking lot only a short distance away from the main beach. As I clambered out of the front seat, I became aware of the large crowd of confused looking people who had gathered in a cluster around what appeared to be a large stage. Bra locked her car, setting it back inside it's capsule and placing it in the pocket of the large denim overalls she wore. She must have been the only woman on the planet who could look good in paint stained overalls, an off grey shirt and with her long teal hair swept up into a high ponytail. She almost made me feel subconscious beside her – dressed in denim short-shorts with a tight fitting red tank top, with my hair free and cascading about my shoulders – though for once I had actually made an effort with what I wore.

The beach was cluttered with people, who had joined the ever-growing crowd to see what all the commotion was about. Bra, Zara and I pushed our way towards the front, squeezing ourselves into the front row. A large stage loomed ahead of us, with what appeared to be the Capsule corp. logo imprinted onto the front of it. A Capsule stage. I cast Bra a confused glance, but she barely caught my eye amongst all the surrounding chattering and shouting. All around me, I could hear teenage girls squealing and gossiping behind their hands, though I couldn't understand why until I saw that it was Trunks who stood on the stage.

He was dressed in low hanging jeans and a black tank top, his soft folds of lavender hair falling into his crisp, sky blue eyes. He smiled a soft, secret smile to the crowd, deliberately not looking in my direction, though I was sure he knew that I was there. There was a definite red tinge to his usually pale cheeks, and the muscles of his tanned body had tensed. It was then that I noticed that he was holding an electric guitar in his hands. A memory that seemed to have occurred almost an eternity away suddenly came back to me at the sight of Trunks with his guitar:

"_Ever since I was a kid I wanted to be a….a musician. I had lessons when I was still at school, and I really liked it."_

"_What did you play?" _

"_Guitar." _

"_Wow, that's so cool! You'll have to play for me sometime……"_

I was interrupted from my silent reverie when Trunks spoke into his microphone, addressing the entire crowd, his cheeks burning a brilliant red from embarrassment. I felt the colour begin to flood into my face, just from mere embarrassment for him.

"Hey, um…it's great for all of you to come over here and listen to me. I…I just wanted to play a song for someone…someone very special. Someone who I love, and who I probably will love for the rest of my days…for always, whether she likes it or not. I've been treating this person very wrong lately, and I can only pray that this helps her to find it in her heart to forgive me." Finally, he looked at me, a deep and meaningful stare, one that was filled with emotions that I simply could not place. Fear…doubt…remorse…regret…love??? "Pan, this one's for you."

I've been here before, a few times  
And I'm quite aware, we're dying  
But your hands, they shake with goodbyes  
And I'll take you back, if you'd have me  
So here I am, I'm trying  
So here I am, are you ready?

Come on let me hold you

touch you

feel you  
Always  
Kiss you

taste you

all night  
Always

And I'll miss your laugh, your smile  
I'll admit I'm wrong, if you'd tell me  
I'm so sick of fights, I hate them  
Lets start this again for real

So here I am I'm trying  
So here I am are you ready  
So here I am I'm trying  
So here I am are you ready

Come on let me hold you

touch you

feel you  
Always  
Kiss you

taste you

all night  
Always

Come on let me hold you

touch you

feel you  
Always  
Kiss you

taste you

all night  
Always  
I've been here before a few times  
And I'm quite aware we're dying

Come on let me hold you

touch you

feel you  
Always  
Kiss you

taste you

all night  
Always

Come on let me hold you

touch you

feel you  
Always  
Kiss you

taste you

all night  
Always

I heard the teenage girl behind me whisper 'So romantic' in amongst the squeals and shouts of her other hormonic peers. Though to me, these noises were unimportant…just small details I would forget when I was old, and looking back on the memory of the day. He was a damn good guitar player, that was for sure, much better than he had ever given himself credit for (I wondered how long he'd spent practicing that song before he dared to play it in public), and even I had to admit that he was also the most sexiest. But he wasn't singing or playing for any of the other girls…he was doing it for me. He had even said so himself. I had not heard incorrectly. He really did love me, and he really did want to try for something real, so much that he had wanted to shout it to the world through his song. I had never really been a fan of that particular music, but at that moment, the song was my most favourite in the entire world. It was his song. It was our song…I knew I was being soppy, childish, and perhaps even weak, but for once I didn't care. I was in love, and it was the most wonderful feeling in all the world.

Trunks had already stepped down from the stage, and was in the possess of packing away the guitar, and the capsule stage, while swarms of people crowded around him, either congratulating him or swooning over him, some of the women in the crowd actually claiming that they were me. I stood where I was, both too shy and too stunned to push my way towards him. It was lucky that I had Bra with me. She shoved me sharply in the back, pushing my through the clusters of people until I was face-to-face with Trunks himself just as he spun around to face in my direction. Our eyes met…our lips inches apart…for a moment, I was tempted to kiss him, before I remembered where I was.

"Do you want to…" Trunks began, trailing away as his cheeks reddened in embarrassment. I raised my eyebrows, puzzled, feeling my cheeks redden again too. He jerked his head in an opposite direction, gesturing to the parking lot that was not too far a journey. It was then that I realized that he wanted to be alone with me.

We left what remained of the packing away to Bra, and Trunks took me by the hand, fighting his way through swarms of girls before emerging on the open beach. We darted over sand dunes, past the parking lot and down along the streets, all the while clutching our hands together and yet not saying a word. It didn't matter this time…it was a comfortable silence. The kind in which you could let your thoughts wonder away from what you were doing and focus on something else. Only at the time, the only thing I could think about was his hand pressed against mine, and our fingers, which were entwined together. The softness of his palm would never cease to surprise me.

I hardly noticed where we were going until Trunks yanked me into the park…the same park where he had used to take me as a child…the same park which I had sworn never to return to again, because of all the bad memories it held for me. But they weren't bad memories anymore. Now, all of a sudden, they had turned into good memories, and the park had become my most favorite place in the world.

"You know why I did it…don't you?" I head Trunks say as he walked beside me, our hands still held together, and our hips so close that they bumped against one another as we walked. He waited until I had nodded curtly and emotionlessly before he continued. "Did Bra tell you…?"

"Yes, she told me that you two talked about it on the phone, and she helped you to come up with the idea." I replied, shocked to find that my voice was as empty as my gestures had been. How could this be so, when beneath the surface, I was bubbling with different emotions that I fought so diligently to contain? Why was it that when I wanted to be as hard and as cold as possible, I couldn't manage it? And when I actually wanted to show my emotions, why did I find it physically impossible?

"So…" He whispered, his breath tickling my ear. I didn't look at him, and merely continued walking, keeping my eyes straight ahead of me. "What did you think?"

What did I think? What did I think!? I thought it was the best moment in my life…I thought that this was the first time throughout the summer that I had actually managed to completely forget about Elijah, and to feel happy and free for once…I thought that this was the first time I could believe him when he told me that love did not weaken a person, but actually make me feel stronger, for the power he was giving me just by standing beside me was stronger than I ever could imagine…I thought that he was majestic…wonderful…beautiful…I thought…I thought…

"I think I'm in love."

I had to face him then. It was unavoidable…inevitable. His eyes poured into mine, and I waited for all the usual symptoms of love to begin…the kinds that occur to women in cheesy soap operas on the television. But my legs did not weaken…my eyes were not overcome with a hazy glaze…there were no butterflies in my stomach. But there was something…something deep, and indifferent…something I had never seen before.

He was kissing me before I even knew it. His lips pressed against my own, so soft and warm, and unimaginable. He griped my shoulders in his hands, pulling my body closer to his own. I never wanted it to end…I felt like I was on fire…a fire that could never be distinguished.

"Unbelievable." I whispered when he pulled away, sighing heavily as he loosened his hold on me. It was the first thing that came into my head…the only word I could think of to describe it.

He cupped his hand under my chin, pulling my face up towards his own so that I had to look him in the eye. "You always taught me to believe the unbelievable."

Before I knew it, we were kissing again, oblivious to the rain that had begun to hammer upon our backs, drenching the rest of the empty park.

It was the very first of the summer sunshowers.

(o)

A/N: Now I have Pan and Trunks together, there won't be much left of this story. However, there are still three more chapters to come before the end, in which the main complication will be resolved. There will also be some periods in which Pan and Trunks will figure out their relationship, and sort out what they plan to do next. Stay tuned until then.

Thanks for reading, please review!!!


	16. Understanding

"Pan, I think there's a couple of things we're going to need to…you know…talk over." Trunks finally said to me after a solid five minutes of silent driving on the way back to Capsule corp. "If we're ever going to make this work, we have to be honest. Alright?"

The car pulled up beside a traffic light. I turned my attentions away from the window and focused on him instead. He was staring at me unblinkingly and with deepest sincerity, but also with a sense of love and admiration. It was then that I realized for the first time that there was a rather profound connection between us. Eventually I nodded, allowing him to continue.

"First of all, I'm not a virgin." I was surprised when he did not blush or stutter when he told me this, but said it as if it were a normal affair. Perhaps it was for people when they came to be his age. But his hands did seem to grip the steering wheel much more tightly when he turned back to the road. "You're not the first woman I've ever had in my life. Before you I've been with two others, but I've only slept with one of them and that was when I was twenty six. Does that bother you?"

Of course it didn't bother me! I'd always expected as much from him. When I was much younger, my uncle would tell me stories from his high school years, about Trunks and how popular he had been with the ladies, although strangely he hadn't dated until he'd graduated. I firmly shook my head, causing him to smile in what appeared to be relief.

"You also need to understand that it's going to be hard. With the age difference and all. A lot of people won't be so willing to accept it. I know my mother will have a hard time coping. Not that she has anything against you." He added quickly. "She just might be worried that maybe…well, let's just say I might want to do things that you're not ready for. What she doesn't understand is that-"

"You'll do your best to make sure that won't happen, I know!" I exclaimed with frustration, irritated by the manner in which he addressed me. It wasn't as if he acted like I were no more than an insolent child, but he did manage to make me feel beneath him in some way, and it made me uncomfortable. "God, Trunks, you have to stop treating me like some little kid. I'm almost seventeen, after all. If you want this to work then you have to treat me like your equal."

I knew that to have a good relationship of any kind, those involved needed to be honest and trusting. But honesty proved to be much more difficult than I had thought it to be. How could I tell him how I felt when there was always a chance that I could offend him in some way? It occurred to me then just how much I needed to learn about relationships.

"Sorry." He said quietly, and I was relieved to see that he was smiling when I finally gained the courage to look him in the eye. "I didn't mean to…I mean, I didn't think…"

"No, it's ok." I replied as the car turned into the next street. I watched as Trunks guided his vehicle towards his house with expert ease. "I guess it's gonna take some getting used to."

"Yeah." Trunks sighed as he pulled the car over outside Capsule corp. and stared out the window passively, his sky blue eyes clouded with thought. Eventually, he turned back to me, a wide smile spread across his face. "Do you think we should tell them?"

There was no need for me to think through my reply. "Not yet. They'll freak."

Trunks laughed, reaching searching and finding my hand, then clasping it in his. "They'll have to know sooner or later."

"I'd rather later than sooner."

"Me too." He jerked his head towards the large complex ahead of us. "Come on. Let's go inside."

I didn't sleep at all that night. It was impossible to, with uncontrollable emotions bubbling inside of me that I was unable to avoid. I knew I was acting stupid…knew that I was betraying my pride to my heart. Throughout the course of my entire life, I had abided in the same principals: love was something that made you weak. When you allowed your emotions and feelings to take control of you, then you lost your inner strength and your will to fight. My mother had been a living example of that.

But I didn't feel weak. I felt stronger than I ever had before. The power of two was far stronger than the power of one. I would never need to feel alone again…to shut myself away from the world and retreat to my own private thoughts whenever something would go wrong. I had Trunks now. Trunks would be there, so I wouldn't have to face the tragedy that had fallen on my family alone. Elijah would not be the end of our family's suffering. Life was not perfect…sooner or later, some other terrible event that I had never expected could occur just as easily as it had done this time. But when it did, I would not just have to pretend to be strong, because I would have him for my strength. Always. He had promised me that it would be for always.

I knew that I was acting childish…sappy…love-struck. For once, I didn't care. Trunks once told me that I made excuses not to feel, and pushed my emotions as far down as I could because I was afraid of the weakness I believed they symbolized. But my emotions were not weakness, but strength instead. Weakness was to deny yourself of your emotions, because it meant that you were running from what you truly felt and believed. I wanted to be strong. Emotions were strength. I needed to feel.

Not only that, but the feelings were good…

(o)

Keeping the relationship between Trunks and I a secret from the rest of the Briefs' household was fun for a while. It was as if we were being rebellious, and breaking some sort of unwritten law, although the only reason we refused to tell anyone about us was because we were simply afraid of their reaction.

Even if we were in the same age bracket, and there weren't any reasons why we should be separated from one another if any of our relatives found out, I still would have preferred the excitement of a secret relationship to parading it around the place like they do in idiotic soap operas. During the day, we mostly avoided one another. A bland smile from across the room…a single, placid nod when passing in the corridor…a brief and disjointed conversation about something as pointless as the weather during mealtimes. But in the evenings, after dinner had been eaten and everyone else had resumed their regular routines, Trunks would meet me in my room. Work would leave him bitterly exhausted, frustrated and angry, but usually I managed to put him in a good mood quite quickly.

Some nights, we sat on the floor or on a bed, his hand clutched in my own as we talked about nothing in particular. Other times, the atmosphere was more intimate. I am not ashamed to admit that more than just occasional kissing was involved, though it never went too far for my liking or his own. And then there were nights in which we barely said anything at all, simply enjoying the comfort of the other's company after a day of troubled thoughts and the unwanted burden of work. After a while, we would part so that we would be able to sleep, though we both knew that the other rarely did. Most nights I would lie awake, wishing that I had gathered enough courage to ask him to remain with me all night. I knew that he wanted to, and I needed his companionship during the lonesome hours of the night more than ever.

After a while, the excitement of having a secret relationship began to ware off. It would have been much easier for the both of us, and it wouldn't have been a great tragedy if anyone found out. Trunks was a grown man, and even if we were forbidden to be together, he would figure out a way to escape them all…allow me to live with him somewhere else, perhaps.

In my darkest moments, I would daydream about this in order to keep myself from thinking of Elijah, or some other unpleasant thing. I would image that my parents discovered our secret relationship, and we were forced to flee to a distant country where we could live together peacefully. He would be a famous musician, and I would be a professional fighter. Sometimes the others would hear about us on the news, but otherwise there would be no word from us. Perhaps we could find the cure for Elijah's disease, and then he could come to live with us as well. Or maybe when we returned with the cure, our families would be ready to accept our relationship, and we could live with them again. I didn't know if I could stand being parted from my parents for so long. Already, having not spoken to them for a mere two and a half months had obliviously been tearing at me from inside.

As time passed, I found myself having to daydream this same thing over and over again, so that I could block out any unpleasant thoughts or feelings I was suffering from. But even that began to fail, so that the thoughts took complete hold of me and I simply couldn't keep them away at all.

It's family that makes all the difference, you know, when a person is dying, especially with young children. It is the love of the family that ensures that the child will die happily, knowing that they are going to a better place. Can you imagine what it would be like for a child that young to die alone…?

The words the nurse had told me the day I had visited Marron and her new baby daughter in hospital had become fixed into my head so that I could no longer block them out. I thought about Elijah: thin and sickly…white as a skeleton…dying alone in a hospital bed. Goten and Marron had left for a short while to tend to their baby. No one else was there except for a handful of strange nurses and doctors he did not recognize. He didn't know them, and that made him afraid of them. He longed for a familiar face…just one. Anyone. His breathing would slow and then it would come out in long, rasping gasps. Finally, it would stop altogether. The blood beneath his pasty skin would become stone cold. A nurse would lift the blanket up and over his head, hiding his face from the world…

Each time the words of the nurse would find their way into my thoughts, I felt like crying, but managed to control myself. Elijah wouldn't want me to cry…not for him. He often told me that I was one of the toughest people he knew (not that he had a chance to meet many). If he knew that I had been crying, it would only make him more afraid of the unknown that lay ahead of him. But it was hard to hold it in, even for someone like me. With the dawn of each new day, I woke from a restless sleep with the fear that this morning may very well be his last.

Soon, it got to the stage where I couldn't bring myself to come down to meals. I sat alone on my bed, staring out the window with my arms wrapped around my legs tightly. I was focusing very hard on keeping my body numb, so that I could stop the tears from spilling. I could feel them brimming in the corners of my eyes…

"Pan?"

I peered behind me at the sound of my name, only to see Trunks standing frigidly in the doorframe, watching me with an expression of confusion. I couldn't even face him today…couldn't face anyone. Just wanting to be alone, I turned back to the window again, hoping that he would go away.

He didn't. I listened to the sound of his footsteps approaching me as he came to my bed, stretching out a hand and gripping my shoulder. A warming sensation suddenly flooded through my entire being, and I felt the tension in my muscles melt away into nothingness. Slowly, he began to massage my shoulder with his hand, fingers pressing into my skin. I closed my eyes to the sensations, glad that I had not told him to leave me in peace. My thoughts of Elijah had distracted me so much recently that I had almost forgotten how good he could make me feel.

"You miss them, don't you?" He asked me quietly after a time had passed. "Your family?"

I nodded, stopping his hand with my own and then turning back to face him once more. His face was stern as he lowered himself onto the bed, enveloping an arm around my waist and pulling me against him so that I could rest my head on his shoulder.

"Dad told me he'd noticed something different in you. He thinks you're heading for a state of depression." He whispered into my hair. "It's not very often that he takes the time to notice change in someone, and if he does, he usually keeps his thoughts to himself. He must have been really worried about you to tell me."

Of course, we hadn't told Vegeta anything, but somehow I thought he knew about my relationship with his only son. It didn't matter if he knew, as I had never expected him to have any trouble with handling it. I supposed that if he believed that if Trunks must be with anyone, he was glad it was someone with some Sayian blood in them.

"I just want to go home." I whimpered in a voice that wasn't my own. "Elijah's dying, Trunks. Dying! There's nothing I can do to stop it, I can accept that now. But if he is going to leave, then I want to be with him. I don't want him to die without me. He needs me, Trunks, I know he does."

Trunks was silent, clearly thinking deeply. I wondered if I had hurt him somehow…made him think that I was using this as some lame excuse to get away from him. It wasn't long before I was reassured. Of course he understood how I felt.

"If it were Bra that was dying, and I was sent to live with your family, I don't think I'd be able to handle it half as well as you can." Trunks answered ponderingly. He was gazing at me intently, as if trying to understand the expression written on my face. However, he must have interpreted it incorrectly, for he turned away from me soon after, eyes lowered to the ground. "If you want to go home, because…well, I understand. You don't need to pretend that-"

"It's not you, Trunks." I replied hurriedly, clenching his hand in my own. "If I didn't have to worry about Elijah all the time, I would gladly stay here with you for the rest of my life, as long as I wasn't completely cut off from the rest of my family like I have been for the past two and a half months. I miss them all, and I need to be with them right now. I need to be there for Elijah. You can understand that…can't you?"

Trunks remained still, and for a brief moment, I feared that he didn't believe me. But I was reassured when he turned his head to smile at me properly, chancing a quick kiss to my lips.

"I understand. Mum and Dad will too, once I explain it to them. Make sure that you're ready to leave first thing tomorrow morning. It doesn't matter if Mum doesn't allow you to, because either way, I'm going to make sure that you get home."

I grinned, letting go of his hand and throwing my arms around him delightedly. He laughed softly, holding me against him tightly. Soon, I was laughing as well, although I didn't really know why. It just felt so great to be loved in this way, and to be so easily understood. More than that, it felt good just to let go and feel for once.

Though once he was gone, and I was left to sit alone in my room once more, the happiness washed out of me. I remembered Elijah, and wondered how I could be so carefree and joyful when he was dying only a short distance away from me. I tried to comfort myself by thinking that soon I would be going home, and that soon I would be there with him to help him in his greatest hours of need. But that only helped me for a while.

Even after Elijah was gone, there would still always be someone, somewhere out there who was suffering in the way he did. How could anyone not be ashamed by their happiness whilst knowing that? But then I began to wonder what those that were ill and dying thought about to keep themselves in high spirits. I imagined that they were comforted by reminding themselves that somewhere out there, someone was having a great time. Someone was living their life to the full. Someone was fit and healthy and fulfilled. Somewhere, someone was happy.

(o)

A/N: Thanks for reading, please review! Two more chapters of this story left to go!


	17. Through his blinded eyes

A/N: I do not own the lyrics to the song 'Through her eyes' by Dream Theater. Note that the lyrics have been changed slightly to better fit the story.

(o)

My bags were packed and I was ready to leave the following day. Luckily, Trunks had managed to talk Bulma into letting me go, by helping her to understand how I was feeling. To my relief, it turned out that she was very supportive of my decision.

"You know what's best for you. If you think you need to be with Elijah, then you should be with him." Was Bulma's response to Trunks' statements about my departure. Then she immediately phoned ahead to my parents in order to let them know I would be meeting them at the hospital first thing the next morning.

To my surprise, the Briefs had informed both Mason and Zara of my departure, and all of them were waiting outside in the front lawn for me together. Vegeta met me at the door and attempted to take my bags, but I gripped onto the handles tightly and prized his hands away.

"I can carry my own luggage, thank you." I scathed, though both of us knew that I was partly joking.

Vegeta merely grunted, but it was almost certain that he was trying to suppress a smile. He placed a hand on my shoulder and steered me towards the others.

"I wouldn't mind sparring with you again sometime." He murmured to me out of the corner of his mouth. "I think someone needs to deflate that ego of yours, and your parents have become too soft to be worthy opponents for you."

"Are you actually admitting that I am a good fighter?" I asked in bewilderment.

"No." He defended, then added when he caught sight on the look of my face. "Well, I suppose for a half-breed…"

Our conversation was cut short by Bulma, who pulled me into a hug the moment I came into her arm's reach. Her grip was so tight that both my bags fell from my hands and onto the pavement, and I struggled to keep the air circulating around my lungs.

"Careful, Mum. Her face is turning blue." Trunks chuckled, leaning against his car as he spoke. It had been decided that he would be driving me to the hospital only last night. Of course, neither Trunks nor myself had any objections.

When Bulma finally released her hold on me, I could see tears brimming in the corners of her eyes. I wasn't entirely sure if she was crying because I was leaving, or if it was because she knew that I planned to stay with Elijah until the very end. He next words came as the answer to my question.

"I'm so proud of you, Pan." She sniffed. "We're all very proud. I think you made the right decision in wanting to be with your cousin."

"Thank you." I managed to choke out. Now, for the first time, I realized that I would be leaving Capsule corp., the place which had been home to me for the most of the summer break. How ironic, I thought, that I had spent most of my time here moaning about how much I missed my old home, and now that it was time for me to return there, I couldn't help but to feel somewhat attached to the large structure that stood behind me. The reality of the situation suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks.

"Don't be a stranger, now. Come back to visit whenever you want." Her lips broke into a teary smile. "We'll miss having you in the house."

I nodded dumbly, unsure of what else to say. Bulma really hadn't been too unfair on me. After all, she had taken me into her home and fed me for almost a full three months. We may have gotten along a lot better if I hadn't been so tied up in my own problems, and if she hadn't been so…girly. I grinned to myself. I hated to admit it, but I had unintentionally been steadily growing fonder of this hysterical older woman and her abnormal, quirky ways. I allowed her to hug me for the last time that summer.

"Trunks told me you were leaving tomorrow. Met me out the front of the house when I was taking out the trash." Mason mumbled, gazing down at his scruffy sneakers. "So I phoned Zara and…"

"And here we are." Zara finished for him. She looked at me with sudden concern. "Are you sure…I mean…are you going to be ok?"

I knew exactly what she meant. Both she had Mason knew I planned to stay with Elijah until the last of his days, and both were afraid I wouldn't be able to handle it, mentally. Like my parents had been, they were worried trauma would effect my emotional growth. I surveyed both my friends with a sense of knew appreciation. It was wonderful just to know that people cared about you and loved you enough to be worried about you enough to get up early and come out to say farewell. But they needn't have been so anxious, I knew I had made the right choice and told them so. Then, when they said nothing, I pulled them both into a hug that surprised myself even more than it surprised them.

"I guess we'll see you at school, then." Zara said. She was beaming, and still holding onto my wrist. Mason, however, had turned a vibrant shade of pink and drawn away from me rather quickly. It was funny to think that I had just embraced the very person who used to fill me with such utter loathing and hatred.

"Yeah." Answered Mason dutifully, the colour now fading from his cheeks. "See you."

Vegeta had already put my bags into the back seat of Trunks' car, much to my protest, and was now standing beside his wife with his arm around her waist. I turned away quickly and pretended I hadn't noticed. It was bound to be a long time before Vegeta dared to show public signs of affection again for a while, and I didn't want to spoil it for Bulma by embarrassing him. So I climbed into the front seat of Trunks' car and pulled the door shut, waving a final goodbye to everyone who stood on the path. Trunks revved the engine and we were off, leaving Capsule corp. far behind us. And for no reason whatsoever, I wound down the window and leaned out, allowing the breeze to tickle my face and the wind to whip my hair about me. Now the sadness of leaving behind one home had left me, I was filled with the joyous feeling of returning to another. I wanted to scream and shout, jump out of the car window and fly around the world a million times. I was going home. I was finally going home.

The rest of the trip to the hospital was silent. Trunks pulled up a street away so that he wouldn't be hustled by any ambulance drivers, and could take his time in saying goodbye to me. I pulled my bags in from the back seat and clutched them to my chest so tightly that I succeeded in stopping my fingers from trembling.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye." Trunks said as bravely as he could. "I don't know when I'll see you again…it won't be until at least next summer, since you'll be so busy with school and all, no doubt."

Trunks may have had plenty of practice in fooling people into believing he was unaffected by his emotions, but not enough to fool me. I let go of one of my bags and took his hand in mine.

"We'll get to see each other. We can always call each other, and I can stop over on my way home from school. Maybe you can help me with some of my homework."

Trunks smiled, "Sounds like a plan. Once I quit my old job and get into the music business, they're won't be any need for me to live at home anymore. I could save up and find my own place closer to you. That way I can see you on the weekends too."

"Yeah." I grinned. My one great issue with leaving Capsule corp. would be leaving Trunks behind. But it wasn't really goodbye. Our families were close, and we were bound to see one another again before too long. Looking into Trunks' eyes told me that he was feeling and thinking the same thing.

It was an awkward kiss goodbye. We were like twelve year olds, playing our first ever game of spin-the-bottle. I would move one way, then he would move the other, until I eventually ended up kissing his cheek. He winked at me as I slid out of the car, and I stood on the curb, clinging onto my bags and watching him turn the corner and escape my vision. At once I was clouded with sadness. That was the end of my time with the Briefs family. It may not have been the perfect summer I had in mind towards the beginning of the holidays, but it had been the most memorable and life-changing period of my life. Never again would I be the young, immature girl who arrived on the Briefs doorstep three months ago. It was hard to believe so much had changed in such a short amount of time.

Suddenly remembering where I was, I brought myself back to reality and walked briskly towards the hospital. Every step took me closer to my aunt and uncle, my new baby cousin, my grandparents, parents, and my dying cousin. Before I knew it, I had broken out into a run, and was panting by the time I reached the hospital reception.

The next few minutes past by as a blur. I couldn't recall the words spoken by the receptionist, nor my own in response. I remembered only standing in the elevator…the impatience of the slow, monotony of the nurse who rode with me…then bursting out when we reached my floor and sprinting down the corridors until I came to the children's ward. My eyes clouded when I caught sight of my family standing there together. My mother held out her arms to me, and I dropped my bags and ran into them, burying my head into her shirt. I was not ashamed of my tears anymore. I wanted everyone to know how happy I was to be with them again. So happy that it made me want to cry. I fell into the arms of my mother, father, my grandparents and my uncle, embracing them in a swarm of hugs and kisses.

"Elijah." I breathed, once I had recovered a little from the happiness of being surrounded with the people I adored. "Where's Elijah?"

"Inside." Goten stammered, indicating to the door that led to the children's ward. He opened his mouth as if he was about to add more but I didn't wait for him to speak, and tore the door open quickly, charging into the room before anybody could stop me.

Elijah was still lying in that same bed, at the very end of the hall, beside the window. I almost fell over with shock when I first saw him lying there, as this fragile, deep-sleeping form was not that of the boy I had remembered. It might have just been the large bed he was lying in, or the blankets that were tucked in around him so tightly that they practically strapped him down to the bed, but I could have sworn he had shrunk in size. He was bone-thin, his skin an unhealthy shade of palest yellow. If he had stood, the nightdress he wore would have fallen off him. There were huge, dark circles under his eyes, and he wore a pained expression on his sleeping face. His once lavish, thick raven hair was now limp, flimsy and wet with oil, parts of it coming out in small tuffs. I stood beside the bed and touched his cheek. It was icy cold.

"Elijah!" I whispered urgently. "Elijah!"

He didn't move. He was so still, that for a second, I believed he had past away while the others had been waiting for me in the corridor. I spoke his name again, this time louder than before and shook him firmly by the shoulder. He was so weak that I was afraid his body would break beneath the weight of my hand. He stirred a little, and I was reassured.

It took a lot of effort for him to finally wake up. His eyelids were almost too heavy for him to lift. The sparkling colour in his coal black eyes had gone, and replaced with a hazy, distant glaze of grey. He was going blind. He stared at me blankly for several minutes before he realized who I was and his dry, cracked lips broke into a worn smile. He wanted to lift his head up off the hardened pillow but it proved to be too much effort for him. I adjusted him into a sitting position, and when I was done he opened his arms to me and I fell into them, forgetting to be wary of his feeble body and squeezing him as tightly as I could. I burst out into a fresh set of tears, and Elijah joined me, though I had to question whether he knew the reason for our grief or not.

"I missed you." He managed to choke in a hoarse, croaky voice that was not his own. "Why didn't you come before? I asked to see you, but Daddy said you had to go away."

"I did. But it's okay. I'm back now, and I'm not going to leave you this time. That's a promise." I whispered reassuringly.

"But Mummy and Daddy said that I have to go away too, soon. They said I'm going to a really nice place, but they didn't say if you would come too. Will you come with me, Pan?"

"One day." I patted his mattered hair soothingly. I could feel eyes on my back. The others must have been watching me from the door. I parted with Elijah briefly to pull the curtains in around his bed. I wanted this time just for the two of us.

"I don't want to go without you." He sobbed as I returned to him. "I want to see Mummy's new baby. I want to find out what a school is like. I want to fight with you. I don't want to go away before then."

"You'll be able to see Mummy's new baby, and find out what school is like in the new special place. You'll be able to watch us all the time and see what all of us are doing." I paused, then exclaimed, "Hey! You've fixed up your grammar, haven't you? And you don't say 'play fighting' anymore!"

"Yup." He smiled at me again. The smile was almost pathetic, but still I was glad to see it there. "Grandma Chi-Chi has been helping me, and same with all the nurses. I told them I wanted to fix my grammar so I could make you all proud of me. Are you proud of me, Pan?"

"Of course I am." I hugged him again, perching on the edge of his bed. "And I'm going to stay right with you until it's time for you to go. And after that, you're going to get to watch me all the time, aren't you?"

"It won't be so bad, then…going away."

It was like saying goodbye to Trunks all over again, only now it was a million times worse. I wasn't even sure if what I was saying was true. All I knew was that I only had a very short time left to spend with my cousin, and I didn't want to waste any of it.

He yawned, breaking me out of my reverie. His illness seemed to take out quite a lot of his energy. I adjusted his pillows and lay him back down, lying beside him myself and stroking back his lank hair. His forehead was the only part of his body that felt anywhere near warm.

He was not the little boy who lived next door to me anymore. The little boy who sprung out of bed at the first sight of dawn and ran outside, shouting at me to come and play with him. He was not the boy who had gone fishing with me last summer in the nearby river, and bounded across the fields towards home, holding out his catch and waving it proudly under the nose of his grandfather. That boy was preserved forever in my memory, and was still hidden somewhere inside this weak and sickly child. I held onto his body as if I was holding onto the memory itself.

I remembered the song I used to sing to him when he was falling asleep. Even when he was a newborn baby and I used to lean over his cot and peer in at him. It was our special song. Before I knew it, I was singing softly to him, and even after he had sunk into a deep sleep, I kept on singing, not stopping until the song had ended.

He never really had a chance  
On that fateful moonlit night  
Sacrificed without a fight  
A victim of his circumstance

Now that I've become aware  
And I've exposed this tragedy  
A sadness grows inside of me  
It all seems so unfair

I'm learning all about my life  
By looking through his eyes

Just beyond the churchyard gates  
Where the grass is overgrown  
I saw the writing on his stone  
I felt like I would suffocate

In loving memory of this child  
So innocent, eyes open wide  
I felt so empty as I cried  
Like part of me had died

I'm learning all about my life  
By looking through his eyes

And as his image  
Wandered through my head  
I wept just like a baby  
As I lay awake in bed

And I know what it's like  
To lose someone you love  
And this felt just the same

He wasn't given any choice  
Desperation stole his voice  
I've been given so much more in lifeI had to suffer one last time  
To grieve for him and say goodbye  
Relive the anguish of my past  
To find out who I was at last

The door has opened wide  
I'm turning with the tide  
Looking through his eyes


	18. Move into the future

A/N: I don't really know how many years it takes to become a doctor, so I made a rough estimate. Correct me if I'm wrong!

(o)

Elijah past away only one week and two days later, after being moved to a private ward in the hospital, surrounded by the many gifts and flowers sent by family and friends. He died peacefully and painlessly at approximately 1:34am during his sleep, putting an end to what had been an ongoing battle with his sudden illness, which was later proven to have been triggered by an overdose of physical activity. The nurse who discovered his death in the later hours of the morning, assured everyone that when she found him, there was a small, secret smile pursed on his frozen lips.

Because of this, I missed out on the first few weeks of school. When I finally had enough strength to come back, I discovered I was far behind the rest of the class academically. I threw myself into my schoolwork, working vigorously to catch up, and hardly sparing a thought for anything else. It was the only way to ease away the burning agony in my chest left with me after Elijah's death. I worked so hard, that before too long I was at the top of the class instead of at the bottom. Even after the hurt inside me had faded away, I kept working hard and graduated high school with honors, and a recommendation to attend a highly esteemed collage in Capsule City. My entire family was hysterical with joy, especially my grandmother. When I could find a moment to escape from their praise, I sat alone and thought of Elijah. It was his death that had pushed me into my study in the first place. I knew that he was with me all the way, watching over me from wherever he is now. So everything I had told him had been true after all. I had kept my promise to him.

The opportunity of attending a collage so close to home was something that no one could ever pass up. So I put my ambitions to become a professional fighter on hold and moved into campus. There, I studied for six years with the same intensity as I had with my high school education, constantly reminding myself of Elijah's presence and using him as my inspiration. I earnt a PHD and have since become a doctor of medication, dedicating my life and my time to helping seriously ill children and working to find a cure for their diseases. The work is challenging, and very stressful, but at least I know I am doing something worthwhile. Perhaps professional fighting really wasn't my calling. If there is anything that I learnt while living with the Briefs it is that life doesn't always turn out the way you expected it to. Sometimes things change, but mostly when it happens, it is for the better. I would never have even considered the career path I have chosen now if it weren't for everything that happened to me back when I was sixteen years old.

Now, 10 years since Elijah's death, many changes have been made within the lives of the people around me. But it is Trunks who has gone through the biggest change of all. The day after I left for home, he told his mother he was quitting his job at Capsule corp. and refused to train any longer with his father. Instead, he joined a band which has already released two albums, and is working on their third. It has taken an overwhelmingly long time for Bulma and Vegeta to come to terms with the choices their son has made, but now it seems they are slowly coming into acceptance. Only a few days ago, Bulma remarked that her son was looking much healthier now, and seemed to have a lot more energy then he did a few years ago.

Trunks and I kept in touch, just as we had promised to. He was the first to learn about my acceptance into collage, and I was first to be told about the recording of his band's first album. There was regular visits to one another, and even more regular when I moved into campus much closer to where he lived. He is still saving to buy his own apartment, and is working another part time job at a CD store as well as playing with his band. He keeps promising me that it won't be long before we can live together, and whenever he brings it up I can't help but to notice the joyous glint in his sky blue eyes.

We told our families about our relationship when I turned twenty. At first, they were both too shocked to even comprehend the matter, though now it seems, like with Trunks' career choice, they have come to accept it. I'm glad that now we can be more open about our feelings, because it takes mounds of stress off my back. I have come to discover that keeping secrets from my family is what I hate most.

A few months after Elijah's death, Bra delivered a healthy baby boy she and Uub named Leo, who is now nine. Goten and Marron's second child, the now ten year old Tia, has also grown to be healthy and strong, although for a while it was feared that Elijah's disease may be genetic. I have somehow managed to develop a close connection to both children –almost as close as the bond shared between Vegeta and I, which has grown steadily over the years. Now he is almost like a second father to me. Now that everyone knows about my relationship with Trunks, Bulma sometimes jokes that it's good that Vegeta and I are so close, because one day soon he might be my father in law. I'm not to sure about that. Even though I am now 26 years old, and Trunks is nearly 39, we have made no plans to ever get married, and somehow I like it that way. I guess that even as a teenager I knew that marriage really wasn't for me. Who cares if we are 'bonded' together in the eyes of the law? As long as we love each other, then it's all that matters. Children are also something I don't think I would consider as a possibility. With all the time I spend looking after other people's children, I don't think I would be able to raise any of my own. But that isn't what's important to me. I've reached my happy medium.

Zara and I stayed friends after high school, even though we have taken very separate paths in life. She hasn't gone to university, and hasn't yet figured out exactly what she wants to do yet. But that doesn't matter either. She's still got her whole life left to find that out. She and Mason broke up just before the beginning of the HSC, but still have remained friends. She married young to a poet she met recently after finishing school, and the two have been together ever since. This stroke me as odd, because Zara never seemed like the sort of person who'd want to settle down. She was too rebellious for that. But she has changed a lot too. In fact, she's even managed to make reconciliation with her family.

Mason, on the other hand, had no other girlfriends after Zara. By this stage of his life, he was beginning to question his sexual orientation. Only recently has he announced to Zara and I that he is gay. Of course, the two of us are more than happy for him, especially since it means he'll stop with the corny pickup lines.

Life is such a strange thing. One minute, you think that you've hit rock bottom, and then you discover that what started out as a tragedy can alter your entire life, mostly for the better, help you to see the bigger picture, and take on tasks you never even dreamed you were capable of. And when something happens to bring me down, I remember Elijah, and find comfort in the fact that he'll always be watching over me, and guiding me towards bigger and better things. It also helps to know that you are surrounded by people who love you, and are willing to catch you when you fall.

The Chinese use the same word for crisis as they do for opportunity.

THE END

Thank you to everyone who has given me the support and encouragement to continue to write this story through their reviews. I hope you all enjoyed it!

Thanks for reading, please review!


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